


Smutty Shorts

by sashocirrione



Series: Smutty Shorts Collections [1]
Category: Death Note
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Abuse, Abuse of Authority, Alternate Character Interpretation, Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Anal Sex, Angst, Animal Abuse, Animal Attack, Asphyxiation, Awkward Conversations, Backstory, Baking, Bestiality, Biting, Blindfolds, Bloodplay, Body Image, Bondage, Breathplay, Captivity, Character Study, Chocolate, Condoms, Cooking, Crack, Crying, Cuddling and Snuggling, Curses, Disturbing Themes, Double Penetration, Dubious Consent, Egg Preg, Eggs, Enemas, Exhibitionism, F/M, Family Drama, Family Secrets, Feathers & Featherplay, Femdom, Ficlet Collection, Fight Sex, Fingerfucking, Fluff, Food Issues, Food Sex, Forced Orgasm, Fourth Wall, Gross, Hand Jobs, Handcuffs, Humiliation, Humor, Implied Relationships, Interspecies, Kink Meme, Law Enforcement, Leather Kink, M/M, Massage, Masturbation, Misunderstanding, Mpreg, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Nipple Clamps, Nipple Play, Nonhuman Sex, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other, Out of Character, Paranoia, Pedophilia, Pillow Talk, Porn Video, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Pre-Canon, Prompt Fic, Prostate Massage, Prostitution, Rape/Non-con References, Rimming, Roleplay, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Tension, Sexual Violence, Shame, Sounding, Swords & Fencing, Tentacles, Torture, Undercover, Unplanned Pregnancy, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Video, Violence, Vomiting, Voyeurism, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-07
Updated: 2013-01-28
Packaged: 2017-10-16 04:09:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 28,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/168261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sashocirrione/pseuds/sashocirrione
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of shorts that I felt could not stand alone as separate fics. Each chapter is a complete fic. Some chapters extremely gross, violent, disturbing or something else see warnings inside each.</p><p>Includes a total of sixteen ficlets:</p><p>"Pink is for Danger" (L/Matsuda crack)</p><p>"Giggling" (Light/L fluff)</p><p>"Chocolate Topping" (Mello with Near humor)</p><p>And more...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pink is for Danger

**Title:** "Smutty Shorts"

 **Author:** Sashocirrione

 **Spoilers:** MAJOR Spoilers for the entire series.

 **Warnings:** NO UNDERAGE READERS. See author's notes at the beginnings of individual chapters to see which warnings apply to which chapters. **Some are extremely gross or violent or contain disturbing things.**

 **Summary:** A collection of shorts that I felt could not stand alone as separate fics. Each chapter is a complete fic (the first chapter starts just below).

 **Pairings:** See author's notes at the beginnings of individual chapters for the pairing(s) that will be in that chapter.

 **Additional Notes:** None.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Death Note, and I do not make any money from these writings.

* * *

**CHAPTER 1 of "Smutty Shorts"**

**Title:** "Pink is for Danger"

 **Author:** Sashocirrione

 **Spoilers:** Spoilers for up to about the middle of the Yotsuba arc.

 **Warnings:** NO UNDERAGE READERS. Implied sexual activities. Extremely gross. Very, very disgusting. Also, if you are a normal mpreg fan you will probably be sorely disappointed and perhaps even angered by this fic.

 **Summary:** Matsuda is certain that he's pregnant, despite being a male, so he goes to L for advice. This is crack fiction. It is deranged, silly and very, very gross.

 **Pairing:** LxMatsuda

 **Additional Notes:** All canon events previous to the beginning of this fic have happened as normal, except for the LxMatsuda sexual relationship. However, this is extreme crack, so most canon events have nothing to do with the story anyway.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Death Note, and I do not make any money from these writings.

* * *

It started much like any other day. Matsuda got up, dressed, swallowed a vitamin for good health and energy, brushed his teeth, and took the elevator downstairs to meet with the other investigators and to mooch some doughnuts and coffee off of L.

L always had extra doughnuts, especially in the mornings, and there was never a shortage of coffee.

Plus, there was the fact that L wanted to have a good breakfast ready for his lover. And the fact that L would sometimes lick a little frosting from Matsuda's fingers if nobody else was watching.

_Lover._

Every time Matsuda thought of it, he could barely hold back the reaction of blushing. It wasn't an embarrassed blush but rather a happy blush; the warmth in his heart trying to spill onto his face. Well, there was a little embarrassment about the way L's idea of privacy was forcing Light to wear a blindfold and to face in another direction while they had sex.

But that was a tolerable price for getting L, all of L, with no restrictions, totally naked, writhing and moaning beneath Matsuda's every caress.

As the other men talked and prepared for the work day, Matsuda knew that he should be preparing for all the little errands he'd be doing later as Misa's manager. She'd been talking about another shopping trip. But his mind could only focus on some disturbing things he'd been thinking about lately.

For one thing, there were the strange cravings. Matsuda knew he had changed from someone who was occasionally hungry between meals to someone who was hungry _all the time_ , no matter what he ate or how much. It was driving him crazy.

Then there was his stomach. It felt odd, maybe bloated. It was often upset. And, just the last few days, Matsuda was certain he'd felt something occasionally twitch deep in his guts.

L was soon out of doughnuts, but Watari was handing out even more of those pineapple sundaes that he'd had in such abundance lately, and Matsuda ate four of them before Misa's just-waking-up tantrum forced him to leave with her on a day filled with errands.

He could hardly think of anything except food. And L in a Lolita dress, as Misa tried a number of them on and Matsuda couldn't help but imagine his lover in a kinky game of cross-dressing. But during one of the long breaks he did manage to go on the internet and leave a few messages on various medical forums, asking about his symptoms.

He didn't get the answers until the next day, when his symptoms were even worse.

Several people thought he needed to take a pregnancy test.

_Pregnant?_

But, the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Everything matched up.

Except for being male, which he'd forgotten to mention online.

But maybe that wasn't an issue. Scientists were always discovering new things, and Matsuda thought he'd once seen a pregnant man on the cover of a magazine. Besides, an asshole was even better than a vagina. L had said so himself. If the asshole was better, then it must have every ability the vagina had and more.

It was dreadful to think of, but L needed to know. Matsuda crept into L and Light's bedroom at night and said, "I need to be private with you, L, so we can do something. It's really, really important."

"Really? More private than anything else we've ever done?"

L's eyes positively sparkled. He nearly dropped one of the little pastry things he was eating in his coffee.

Matsuda said, "Yes. It's just not... not for Light's ears."

A few minutes later Light was off somewhere chained to Watari and they were alone in the bedroom.

Matsuda stammered a few times and then said, "I'm pregnant."

L said nothing at first, but then he threw back his head, clutched at his stomach and laughed loudly, an unnatural cackle like nothing Matsuda had ever heard from L before.

As L's laughter slowly decreased, Matsuda began describing his symptoms.

L listened, and when Matsuda was done, he said, "You're actually serious? This isn't a joke?"

"Yes, I'm completely serious! What are we going to do with a child?"

L said, "Matsuda, can I see those vitamins you've been taking lately?"

Matsuda pulled the bottle from his shirt pocket and handed it over.

Black, owl-like eyes scrutinized the label as L dangled the bottle in a finger-and-thumb grip. Seeming to not find whatever he was looking for, L opened the bottle, poured a few pills into his hand, stared and sniffed at them. Next, he crushed one pill to powder, mixed it with a piece of something he had picked apart from the middle of a gooey pastry, then spilled some coffee on the mixture and watched it fizzle.

"Just as I thought," L said, "blue, pungent, and it reacts with starch. I knew you weren't _this_ stupid, Matsuda."

"What?"

"You've been taking Stupid Pills. They decrease the average person's intelligence by about a hundred IQ points, sometimes much more. Unscrupulous health food stores sometimes sell Stupid Pills as vitamins, hoping to more easily convince their customers to buy additional unnecessary products."

Matsuda said, "So, you mean Stupid Pills make you pregnant?"

L sighed.

L said, "No, Matsuda. I think we can follow two clues to the likely answer for your condition. One is the copious amount of pineapple you've been eating lately. The other is, a few months ago, when I warned you to send back that undercooked steak you ordered but you didn't listen. The middle was pink, do you remember? Pink is a dangerous color."

"Pineapple and pink? I don't get it."

Matsuda slapped a hand to his forehead, saying, "Oh, I'm such an idiot! A useless idiot! Please explain it, L."

In a quiet, solemn voice, L said, "You're not going to like it."

"Tell me."

"Undercooked beef can contain live tapeworm cysts. Beef tapeworms are one of the largest species. If they move, you may feel it. Additionally, pineapple is toxic to tapeworms. That has been likely making your visitor thrash, though it probably won't kill it unless you eat nothing except pineapple for a week."

"You mean I'm pregnant with a tapeworm? Our child is a tapeworm?"

"No, Matsuda, that's the Stupid Pills talking. They'll wear off in approximately a day and then what I've told you will make more sense. You have a tapeworm the normal way. You're infected."

_Infected._

Matsuda could feel his heart beating in his chest.

_Infected._

It was disgusting. Utterly disgusting.

L looked at the bottle of pills and said, "Matsuda, you've given me a brilliant idea. I think I'll start feeding Stupid Pills to Light."

Matsuda screamed. His hands were clutching his stomach, though he couldn't remember placing them there.

"Get it out of me, get it out of me, getitoutofme, getitoutofme!"

"Calm down, Matsuda. We'll obtain a prescription and kill it. It is very simple."

After a pause, L added, "However, you're not getting laid again until you're clean. I don't want to bump into that thing."

Matsuda puked.

L dryly said, "That's not how you dislodge a tapeworm. They have hooks, and each of their many segments has both male and female reproductive parts, laying thousands of-"

"I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT!"

* * *

**A/N (Author's Note):**

I can hardly believe that this fic, of all things, ended up being my first completed LxMatsuda (not counting the briefly-mentioned LxLightxMatsuda threesome in "Everyone Wants L" where L gets pretty much everyone in the series, mostly in threesomes and foursomes).

I thought my first LxMatsuda wouldn't be this gross and silly. I have a serious LxMatsuda sitting unfinished on my computer. Right now it's only a few paragraphs and a plot outline and I have no idea when/if I'll ever finish it and upload so that others can see.

I hope the warnings were adequate for the level of grossness involved, and for the mpreg bait-and-switch plot.

This was actually written for an mpreg prompt at the Death Note kink meme on livejournal (I'm uploading it to the new, moved meme at dn_kink2, come visit us there if you want to see all the new updates by many talented authors).

However, as usual, I couldn't pull off real mpreg.

Fortunately, the prompt said cracky was okay, and there is a previous fill for that same prompt that is also cracky, so I figured it was fine (otherwise I'd be afraid of upsetting the original prompter).


	2. Giggling

**CHAPTER 2 of "Smutty Shorts"**

 **Title:** "Giggling"

 **Author:** Sashocirrione

 **Spoilers:** MAJOR Spoilers for up to about the middle of the Yotsuba arc.

 **Warnings:** NO UNDERAGE READERS. Sexual activities.

 **Summary:** L is a completely different person in bed than Light had ever expected.

 **Pairing:** LxLight or perhaps LightxL (no penetrative activities)

 **Additional Notes:** All canon events previous to the beginning of this fic have happened as normal, except that L and Light have already started a sexual relationship before the start of this fic. The beginning of the sexual relationship is not shown, only this aftermath of it.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Death Note, and I do not make any money from these writings.

* * *

 _L is childish._

Light has known that for a long time. Perhaps (Light thinks of this sometimes) perhaps he even suspected it before meeting the detective, from the way L had boasted during the Lind L. Tailor incident, making the L and Kira war seem like a petty schoolyard rivalry (and he himself had felt something like that infantile need to lash out at the time, though now he can surmise no reason for it other than maybe a disapproval of the risk L was taking, because Light has always admired L, hasn't he?).

 _L is very, very childish._

This is another fact Light knows, and he's been aware of it at least since he saw L build a miniature Christmas tree out of green gummy bears and decorate it with multi-colored sprinkles before consuming it bit by bit.

But somehow Light had never translated those facts into predicting anything resembling what L was presently doing, the secret side of L that only his bed-mate would see. No, perhaps only his lover (and Light was L's lover, wasn't he, though Light tried not to think of that during their work hours, or to think of how unfair it was to Misa, even as annoying as she was).

These were times when L's serious facade dropped away, when his voice lost that nearly-monotone quality, when his curled-up protective posture unkinked and he sprawled widely across their bed, loose and lanky.

L was half in and half out of his clothing, as if the very concept of dressing was unknown to him, his limbs tangled in a chaotic way with the sheets and blankets.

Light pressed his chest and stomach more closely to L's back, breathed on L's shoulder, and reveled in the loud hum that L produced in response. L's noises at these times were irresistible and alarming all at once. Irresistible because it felt like getting to witness something special, rare and mysterious. Alarming because someone might hear through the door, if any of the others were passing close enough in the hallway outside.

Curiosity overpowered Light, and he let a hand lazily trace circles across L's pale exposed belly, almost absurdly flat, and then let his fingers burrow beneath the confusing mass of several blankets that had become trapped and twisted between L's legs. It took a few tries, but his genius mind was able to sort through the puzzle and find his way to what he was seeking.

L let out a loud, "Ah!" at the moment of contact, making Light cringe inwardly.

Light's mind once again ran through the reasons to do this despite L's noise (and Light couldn't keep his mind from moving, sifting, perceiving and concluding all sorts of things on an ongoing basis; his mind was almost too busy, even at these times when he most wished it would slow).

He didn't feel as if he were analyzing L's every move and motive and quirk as much as he used to in the days before he'd volunteered for confinement, but there was still something in him that wanted to know what made L tick, what L was like on the inside, to dissect the mysteries of L until they were fully comprehended.

This unguarded state drew him in (it wasn't anything else, no, it was only curiosity).

And so, because of those reasons, and because nobody else would witness it, Light let down his own guard and allowed himself to behave quite childishly too (it was just an experiment, and besides, L had started it originally so it was all his fault).

Light said, "What have I found here?"

L giggled, a lighthearted (and far too loud) completely uninhibited giggle.

Suppressing his disapproval (for what could he do, really, without stopping the process altogether?) Light curled his fingers in place, grasping what he held in order to provoke L into squirming, which L did, a soft wriggly warm weight pressed along Light's body, retreating and returning all at the same time.

Light repeated, "What have I found?"

He could hear his own voice somehow getting softer and more childish, injected with a tone of wonder (because it really was boggling to see L like this, wasn't it?).

L curved his body, pressing his top half backwards into Light, arching his back delicately, while his crotch pushed insistently forwards into Light's hand.

Light's hand retreated, and in response L produced a very loud puppy-like whine.

Alarmed, Light put the hand back immediately but it did not improve the noise level, it only provoked a change from that whine to a series of Ah's and Oh's and Hnnngggff's as L tried to snuggle backwards and forwards at once, twisting within Light's arms, a few strands of his soft fluffy hair tickling at Light's mouth and nose as Light's chin found a perfect place on L's shoulder.

Light tugged gently, making it swell between his fingers, and said, "I wonder what this is. What do you think it is?"

L only became louder with his outbursts, stringing together wordless murmuring and shameless moans with whines, hums, yelps and giggles.

The rhythm of L's breaths was already changing. L was breathing more heavily, his ribs expanding and contracting quite noticeably within the grasp of Light's elbows. Light clutched him harder with every bit of himself that he could, curling his arm that was trapped under the weight of L's side so that the hand there could grasp L's stomach better, using his chin on L's shoulder to pull the man closer to him, and tightening his fingers around L's most sensitive part as he continued the teasing, hesitant strokes.

Light said, "Whatever it is, it seems to like this, doesn't it?"

L giggled quite loudly.

Light stopped the stroking and said, "It's so odd to find that thing there. I keep thinking about what it might be. Should I take a peek?"

It would actually be quite a job to get all those layers out from between L's legs to expose his crotch to view, and Light didn't intend to do that. Instead, Light pulled himself upward a bit, slithering through the sea of tangled blankets and sheets that both enclosed them and impeded them, getting a bit above L, situating himself so that he could see L's face better.

Light knew he was about to make L smile. It was a rare thing. Already, L's face had that characteristic little smirk (the smirk Light used to want to smash whenever he saw it, but like everything else, Light's attitude had suddenly changed; he could only guess that L had grown on him over time and that his confinement had been terribly lonely).

Light said, "Maybe there's a cow hiding under the blankets somewhere and it wants to be milked."

L smiled.

A smile was almost an alien expression for L. It seemed to be stretching L's face in the wrong direction, and yet it was the sweetest smile, simple and pure.

 _Childish. Yes, L is very childish._

Light started moving his hand again and said, "Does the cow need to be milked? Does it?"

"Ahhhhhhhh!"

"I think it's a very noisy cow."

The hand went faster. Light had almost lost his patience with slow teasing. His fingers moved with sure, precise force as he reveled in the way L's slim hips surged forward in rhythmic twitches.

L's volume was rising.

"Ah-ah-ah-ah-"

"The cow-," Light started to say, but then quite suddenly L was releasing all over his hand in a sticky rush of warm fluid.

Immediately after, L's breathing was slowing, his eyes closed.

His eyelashes were very dark against the paleness of his face.

Light kissed L's neck, feeling the pulse fluttering there underneath his lips. L's muscles were loose, his body slumped and soft everywhere.

A moment later, Light realized that L was already asleep.

* * *

 **A/N (Author's Note):**

This is a fill for a request on the Death Note kink meme on livejournal (since it moved from dn_kink to dn_kink2, I'm putting it on the new meme). The request is:

"LightxL, cuddling, giggling, no real sex, L gets a handjob? Light babytalking to L. L loves it.

Bonus points if L is being too loud, and Light tries and fails to get him to shut up because he's giggling too much."

There are some things I've been writing that are rather short and plotless. Some of these fics I have mentally connected to some larger plot idea(s) that I hope to incorporate into them someday, and so they sit in my computer's directory of unfinished fan fiction, waiting for more time and inspiration so that they can hopefully be fleshed out and finished.

But there are other fics that I feel I won't ever get larger plot ideas about, such as this fic, and for these I think that once I finish them they work better as parts of a collection since they're not much more than a scene or two and don't tie in to the larger plot of Death Note very well.

"Giggling" is something of a character study, but I didn't feel as if it was a strong enough character study to stand alone. It somewhat explores the idea of people acting very differently in bed than expected, which happens quite a lot in real life. I did something experimental with the many parentheses (relating to Light's thoughts about the past and about things he wanted to deny or suppress) and I'm pleased with how that turned out, but I think I tend to be a bit lost when I'm not writing something plotty, and I'm not fully satisfied with the way the rest of the fic came out.


	3. Chocolate Topping

**CHAPTER 3 of "Smutty Shorts"**

 **Title:** "Chocolate Topping"

 **Author:** Sashocirrione

 **Spoilers:** Spoilers for up to nearly the end of the series.

 **Warnings:** NO UNDERAGE READERS. Sexual activities.

 **Summary:** Mello and Near compete in everything, including who is going to be on top.

 **Pairing:** Mello with Near (seme/uke ordering is a surprise, so I'm not giving it away here)

 **Additional Notes:** All canon events previous to the beginning of this fic have happened as normal.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Death Note, and I do not make any money from these writings.

* * *

Near and Mello were going to have sex.

Yes, they were really going to have sex.

You see, when Mello came back to get that last photo of himself, the last one in existence, he couldn't help but realize how sexy Near had become.

And Near, in return, couldn't help but notice Mello's hot ass clad in tight leather and his really manly, yet girly, way of carrying himself. It confused Near and turned him on enormously at the same time.

Plus, the gun made Mello super-hot.

But when they'd retreated to a private room to work out their mutual tension, there was one thing they couldn't work out: who was going to be on top.

Mello attempted to win through a physical struggle, and he surely would have succeeded except that Near cheated by calling in his employees and getting them to pull Mello off of him.

Halle, Rester and Gevanni were very surprised when Near did not kick Mello out after that, but instead wanted to continue the attempt to have sex with him.

Since a physical struggle was no longer an option, Mello tried to win through his intellect, while Near tried the same thing in return. They each used all their wits to try to convince the other of the merits of being on the bottom, but the only result was a very long argument that made them both very, very horny.

Then Near called in his employees one more time to help him with his last strategy, the one that ended up being successful.

There was really only one thing left to do.

He bribed Mello with chocolate.

* * *

 **A/N (Author's Note):**

Well, this is extremely short, so I guess you can see why it is here. If it isn't funny, well, then at least I didn't waste a lot of your time.

This is also a Death Note kink meme fill.


	4. Internal Bleeding

**CHAPTER 4 of "Smutty Shorts"**

 **Title:** "Internal Bleeding"

 **Author:** Sashocirrione

 **Spoilers:** MAJOR Spoilers for everything up to nearly the end of the series. Spoilers for many characters' real names.

 **Warnings:** NO UNDERAGE READERS. Sexual activities. Extremely gross. Violence, death and combined rape and animal abuse. Torture.

 **Summary:** You can't control people to act against other people with the death note. But Light discovered that this restriction doesn't apply to animals and so he plans appalling deaths for Mello, Matt and Near. This is something of a character study comparing Light early in the Kira plan to Light late in the Kira plan.

 **Pairing(s):** Various implied pairings including MelloxMatt, plus I suppose you could technically say DogxMello

 **Additional Notes:** All canon events previous to the beginning of this fic have happened as normal, with the exception of Light discovering the death note's ability to influence animal behavior (an idea which doesn't directly contradict any canon death note rules, as nothing is said one way or another on the topic).

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Death Note, and I do not make any money from these writings.

* * *

During the years after L's death, when Light stepped into the role of L and became L for all practical purposes, he indulged himself in experiments more than he ever had before. The feeling of power it gave him, the intense rush of truly controlling the world as a god should, resembled nothing else he'd previously experienced in his life.

In some part of the back of his mind, Light was aware that his former self, the early Kira, would never have approved of the lengths to which he was now going. But that part of his awareness was dim and easily pushed aside with justifications. Experimenting with the death note was a necessity, after all. Understanding every quirk of its uses and abilities might prove needed at a future point, and perhaps when that point arrived there would be no time for lengthy experiments. Planning ahead was an absolute requirement for being Kira. Anything else was stupid.

And so, along with Kira's usual heart attack deaths for criminals, Light always scheduled a few experimental deaths, designed to not appear to be connected to Kira, or at least to produce confusion as to whether Kira was responsible or not. One of the most important break-throughs was when he wrote:

 _  
**Hachiuma Kurosawa, decapitation. Goes to a zoo and enters the gorilla enclosure. Has head pulled off by a gorilla.**   
_

It was the first time he'd tried a controlled death where an animal was controlled to do the killing, and it worked exactly as he'd written it. All the variations he tried later worked just as perfectly as the first experiment. Humans couldn't be controlled to kill others, but animals could.

After that, Light made sure that there were always a few criminals who were given their punishments by animals. Some were trampled to death by horses or had snakes crawl into their throats and suffocate them, or had their eyes pecked out by birds and then fell off of cliffs. The animal-induced deaths became more creative with time, and yet there were always few enough of them that it wasn't certain whether Kira was causing them or not.

Light sometimes reserved these deaths for particularly unrepentant and brutal criminals, but other times he inflicted them on minor criminals just to confuse the trail. That was to avoid one of the things that had led L to him early on. Light knew his initial reluctance to kill haphazardly had ended up creating patterns that could be evaluated for clues. Leaving patterns was for novices. Light was fully experienced now after years of practice, and he'd discarded all his early qualms and limitations.

When Mello and Near came to chase him, Light was contemptuous. They weren't L. Light knew that no challenge would ever be up to the superior chase L had offered and the superior victory L had at last unwillingly given.

There was a part of Light that sneered at the pitiful new chase Mello and Near offered, and there was a part of Light that burned with anger at the thought of anyone challenging him so deeply during the strength of his established reign as Kira, but there was also a part of Light that was bored and almost welcomed the chance to prove his dominance yet again.

Juggling two opponents at once added a little flavor to the proceedings, and the fact that those two opponents were refusing to collaborate allowed Light some more wiggle room to implement various plans. His anger and determination burned even hotter when he made a few slips and realized he was a little out of practice, a little rusty, to ever allow one of the death notes to escape from his grasp. He wanted to make them pay.

When sending the task force to launch an assault on Mello's hideout, he almost overlooked something important. Light knew his dad was very squeamish about killing, about the very idea of killing. If Mello somehow escaped, and if Soichiro couldn't be convinced to give up Mello's name... well, it was too great a risk for a god who planned for every possibility. Before the raid, Light arranged that each task force member would have a helmet with a running video camera attached.

That way Misa's eyes could be used to finish the job. And it did prove useful when Soichiro failed, utterly failed. He'd said the name, Mihael Keehl, and he'd even written half of it in the death note, but he refused to complete it, and Light had never seen Mello's face so it wouldn't work for him... yet. He only needed to see the face.

Light cherished the video footage when he watched it, his heart jumping in his chest. He studied Mello's face while his brain raced ahead to sort through many scenarios, weighing each, tasting each, anticipating. Just as Raye Penber could be used to get the names of all his co-workers, Mello would be controlled into actions that would certainly yield up every associate he had, bearing their faces in front of hidden cameras and then Misa would do the rest.

And... after that... the most painful and humiliating deaths that a creative genius mind could think of. Deaths that would show the wrath of a god, that would be literal hell on earth. Because gods sent people to hell to pay for their sins, didn't they?

Yes, they certainly did.

Light was delighted later that night when he showed Mello's face to Misa and she confirmed that Mello was indeed still alive. It was better this way, to not be deprived of a plaything, to not discard a tool that could be used as a secret poison for others.

Mello's cause of death was written down as "internal bleeding" and then the details followed, a complex series of actions over the course of nearly 23 days that should not be suspicious to anyone observing him. One by one, through Mello's actions, Light got access to more names and faces. There was Mail Jeevas, Mello's minion and possible friend. And then, just when Light was beginning to think "Matt" was the only one, Mello went on a visit to Near's headquarters and Light learned that the two weren't quite as antagonistic as they had seemed.

Once knowing Near's headquarters, it was a simple matter to send expert spies and thieves who knew the utmost about placing hidden cameras and making them undetectable.

Nate River, once his name was obtained, secretly handed over information about his entire team. All of them would be wiped out shortly after Mello's death.

Mello's death was the first of them.

Light had arranged it to be at a time when he could be home alone, in a dark room by himself, watching on the glowing screen of a laptop. Mello was about to walk by a mostly-deserted street corner where there were web cams to record the deed from every angle.

Light's breathing was faster. His clothes seemed tight. He loosened his tie but it only helped a bit.

When his sharp gaze picked out the patch of blonde hair in the distance, his breath caught, though it was still too early to see if it was _him_.

And then, the two walkers in the distance gradually resolved into the forms Light knew to expect. One with fresh bandages covering part of his face, blond hair and a leather outfit, the other slouching deeply into the high collar of a fur-and-leather vest, obviously hoping that the collar and goggles together would provide some protection.

Both so completely ignorant of their fates, so unknowing... people controlled by the death note generally thought everything they did was due to their own ideas, only realizing they were controlled in the most extreme situations. Mello and Near probably both thought that the information they'd been leaking was not leaks to Kira but simply putting copies of needed records in additional caches for their own later use.

Light pulled his tie off, shed his jacket and began to unbutton his shirt. His heart rate had certainly sped up; his skin was heating. It felt good, like an edge-of-the-seat anticipation.

And then, the moment Light had carefully scripted happened. It was the beginning of it all. Mello sprawled over a crack in the sidewalk, twisting as he fell. There was a crunching sound of splintered bone and he was left screaming in pain, writhing on his belly on the ground, one ankle at a sickening angle.

Yes, Mello was crawling on his belly before his god, as he should be. His expression of contorted pain was perfect.

Matt laughed. Mail Jeevas had been controlled to laugh at anything violent he saw and not to interfere. It was the ultimate humiliation, to have a trusted companion laugh at you and refuse to help as you die.

Moments later, a dog jumped over a nearby hedge, just a big dog of indeterminate breed, with no leash or owner visible. It crawled on top of Mello's helpless form and ripped out the seat of his pants. One vicious thrust later it was violating Mello in the worst way possible.

Light watched the blood pool on the sidewalk, watched Mello struggle futilely and curse and scream for help. He watched Matt laughing and laughing as if he'd heard the funniest joke in the world.

Almost subconsciously, Light was rubbing himself through the fabric of his trousers, and when he realized what he was doing he decided to go with it. This was his treat, his pleasure. Mello would only die once, after all.

Light almost couldn't get the button and zipper open fast enough. He grabbed his length as soon as it flopped free, touching with one hand at first, panting and moaning, oversensitive, while the other hand gathered a cool squirt of lotion. Properly supplied, he seriously went to work with both hands; his eyes glued to the screen, his cock twitching with every new scream.

Light brought himself to the edge and stayed there. Sheer force of will drove his excitement higher and higher by denying his release. Each slick movement was perfect and almost unbearable, better than anything Misa had ever done. He didn't want it to end until he'd wrenched every last bit of bliss out of the experience that he could.

And then, Mello said something that almost ruined Light's pleasure.

He looked up at Matt with tears in his eyes and through clenched teeth, sputtered out, "I forgive you, Matt. I know it's not you. Kira is controlling us."

Light's arousal hit a severe drop. He pumped furiously, trying to regain it, fixing his gaze on Matt's shocked face which continued to giggle, and then fixing it on the place where the dog and Mello were joined together with rough, blood-spattered movements.

The feelings returned, slowly at first, and then in a rush as Mello screamed yet again.

No, Mello couldn't ruin it with an apology. That wasn't going to happen.

Light finished exactly when the blond head flopped down in an obviously lifeless way.

The dog pulled free, its belly drenched in red, with fur matted and dripping. It wandered away, losing interest.

Light wiped away the lotion and sprawled in his chair, drinking in the afterglow of his orgasm as he also drank in the sight of Matt crying over and holding Mello's lifeless body.

Matt's own death would be in two hours, and it would be just as humiliating and gory. Light smiled to think of the fun he would have.

He checked the level of lotion, and decided he'd need to get a new bottle before that happened. Matt and Near together were going to have quite a death scene.

At that moment, Light regretted that he hadn't discovered the principle of controlled animal attacks in time to use it with L's death. It was a lingering ache, to not be able to do such a thing with L. Of course that death had needed to include a perfect alibi so it wouldn't have done any good to know anyway, but it was still irritating to think of the gloriously humiliating defeat for L that could now never happen.

What a waste.

* * *

 **A/N (Author's Note):**

This is for a request on the Death Note kink meme (I filled it on the new meme at dn_kink2 since the old meme moved to there).

The request reads:

"Okay, I know this is disgusting, but I'd like to read it anyway.

Mello raped by a big dog. Like, literally, a large dog. Maybe it's Matt and Mello's dog. Maybe it's just random. If Matt is there, I'd like for him to find this hilarious, and not do anything to help."

I never thought I would be filling this prompt, ever. I was sure I wasn't interested. Let me tell you how it happened, then.

When I first saw the request, I thought, _Wow, that's disgusting_ , and then I thought I'd forgotten about it.

But I saw it from time to time, especially when I was doing a bunch of work to help everybody move the kink meme from dn_kink to dn_kink2 and so I occasionally thought about it again. I wondered if it was actually a serious request. I knew it might be a joke request or a troll request, like some of the trolls who go around to a bunch of kink memes and request the most disturbing things they can think of, such as crossover underage pokemon rape with disemboweling.

And then, quite suddenly, the part of my brain that isn't quite sane and comes up with some of my weirder plot ideas said, _Guess what? I've got a plot bunny for this_.

And I was like, _No, no, you can't make me write that_.

But then I did write it (though the bestiality scene was really short and written with few details because I still didn't like the idea).


	5. Instructional Video

**CHAPTER 5 of "Smutty Shorts"**

 **Title:** "Instructional Video"

 **Author:** Sashocirrione

 **Spoilers:** Spoilers for the entire first half of the series.

 **Warnings:** NO UNDERAGE READERS. Rated M for a reason. Sexual activities. Rimming (with a barrier). Enema (non-descriptive).

 **Summary:** Light has trouble keeping up with L's experimental sexual inclinations.

 **Pairing:** LxLight with mentions of past LightxL

 **Additional Notes:** This fanfic is set roughly in the middle of the Yotsuba arc, and differs from canon in that L and Light have started a sexual relationship. However, it is silly and has almost nothing to do with canon events.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Death Note, and I do not make any money from these writings.

* * *

Light was restrained with, in addition to the chain that connected him to L, fuzzy cuffs around each ankle and wrist that were tied to the four posts of the bed, spreading his legs and arms. He was on his stomach, blindfolded, and beginning to wonder if he should go through with it all or tell L to untie him immediately.

Instead he said, "Ah, Ryuzaki, get on with it. What are you waiting for?"

"These things take time, Light. Are your vibrating nipple clamps comfortable? Do you wish me to loosen them or tighten them?"

"Yes, yes, they're fine."

They were just vibrating lightly, a stimulating presence that kept Light's erection at half-mast.

Light felt L's weight moving around on the bed as the springs lightly protested and the silk sheets rubbed against each other with a softly soothing sound. There was also an odd clicking, mechanical noise that started and then stopped.

Light sighed and said, "What are you doing?"

From somewhere behind him, L said, "This is a momentous occasion, Light. I'm sure you'll want to remember it. I am simply creating something for you to remember it by."

"I told you, no blood-play, no tattooing, no piercing, no branding. You're not allowed to do any of that stuff."

"Do not worry. This is harmless."

L's voice was soft and even, with a hint of sultriness, and in the background Light thought he could just detect the faintest whirring noise continuing somewhere in the room, something far quieter than an air vent or a laptop computer. Light grew bored waiting, and then he jumped a bit in place as he felt L spreading his cheeks open.

"There," L said, "you look relaxed enough to begin now."

The vibration on Light's nipples increased.

Light said, "Remember what you promised. You'll show me the kind of pleasure you experience. You'll show me how it feels for you and it will be good, or we're never doing this again."

"I understand."

L's face was so close to Light's back entrance that he felt the hot tickle of L's exhaling breath. Underneath him, trapped against the silk sheets, his erection was growing and swelling, though not uncomfortably. He wanted it to be touched and he squirmed slightly, reveling in the silky sliding feeling and the tugging on his nipples. When he pressed his full weight on the clamps they felt exquisitely almost-painful, just on that edge where any more stimulation would cross the line into pain.

Light waited, wondering if L were going to lick.

Instead, he felt each moist exhale of breath on his sphincter as L said, "This may tickle slightly. Tell me if it becomes uncomfortable."

A feather-soft touch skimmed along his crack from perineum to lower back, giving a slight jolt as it went by his sphincter.

 _That... that_ _**is** _ _feathers, isn't it?_

Light waited for the touch again, and felt it alighting and fluttering just at the entrance. He shivered.

 _Now he's spinning the tool in place. He has a feather tickling tool._

Suddenly, Light was desperate for skin-on-skin contact with his cock. He wanted to hold it, to stroke it, or to get L to do so with his hands or his talented mouth, as L had so many times before. Light's penis throbbed in place against the silk sheets, trapped and out of reach. Light wasn't going to beg. No, that would be humiliating, after they'd already agreed what this session was for.

In a dry voice, L said, "The anus is a very skittish creature that needs to be trained with treats, massages, and a special kind of gentleness. It is very easy to upset an anus and leave it cringing in fear, but if you have truly gained this creature's trust and cooperation then you can proudly call yourself an anus-trainer."

Light said, "Are you... are you narrating?"

The answer was simple.

"Yes."

Before Light could reply, something slippery, smooth and roughly finger-shaped touched at his entrance, running tantalizingly up, down, and around. Everywhere the moisture went, it warmed and tingles developed. Light couldn't concentrate for a few moments, but then he said, "Whom are you narrating to? Watari? Are you filming this?"

The object continued its complex dance along Light's delicate skin without pausing.

L said, "I am making an instructional video. Of course this is being filmed, Light. Everything in this building is filmed. You know that. I am not narrating to Watari as I imagine he has looked away and in any case he does not need these instructions."

"Are you," Light said, "are you going to put this on the internet? Who is this for?"

"It is only a little role-playing. Please indulge my wishes."

The finger-shaped slippery thing suddenly started vibrating and Light forgot what he was going to say in reply. Everything there felt heavy, loose and warm, as the tingles and the heat had only increased. Whatever substance L had spread there, it was continuing to do its magic.

L said, "The sphincter is actually two sets of muscles. There is an inner sphincter and an outer sphincter, with the outer one being voluntary and the inner one being involuntary. This is why it is difficult to put anything large into the anus, because the subject's subconscious mind must be fully at ease for the inner sphincter to open widely."

The vibrating object suddenly dipped inside, just a finger-tip's depth, but Light found his anus instantly flaring to accept it and then missing it when it slid out and resumed circling the target. He shivered and noticed his breathing had become heavier. Underneath him, pressed against his belly, the entire length of his penis throbbed, needing attention.

The vibrator dipped that maddeningly slight distance inside several more times, each time provoking a stronger flare and a stronger feeling of needing something more.

Just after the last dip, L said, "Observe how the anus is presently at a stage where it is consistently winking in response to stimulus. I'm going to rim the subject now, of course with a protective barrier. This sheet of latex is so thin that the subject should barely be able to tell that there isn't direct contact between my tongue and his anus. This practice, along with the subject's earlier enema, increases the cleanliness of rimming. This is not being done to block the transmission of diseases because both partners are disease-free."

Light's heart was beating fast. He felt something that was indeed wet and tongue-like, licking at his opening and then dipping just barely inside in quick, flicking movements. It went away and he missed it fiercely. Then a large amount of lubricant was applied and the tongue was back, that slick wet muscle aggressively pushing inside so fast it made Light gasp. It undulated within, licking and making him feel so very wide and wanting, wanting.

His nipples and cock were three points of hardness against the sheets.

The tongue withdrew and Light hated it.

L said, "Let's see where the subject's prostate is."

In the next moment, Light felt what he was sure must be a finger squirming inside. There was no resistance at all, only bliss. The finger fucked him, gently.

 _More, more, more._

A second finger joined the first. It was a strange pleasure, so different from having his penis stimulated, and yet unmistakably it was a sexual feeling, a very intense sexual feeling.

With an odd internal twisting and curling, the intensity suddenly increased tenfold and Light cried out, trying to drive himself backwards against those fingers. They retreated; sliding entirely out, and then blissfully drove in and curled, drove in and curled.

Light bit the pillow and moaned into it. His cock throbbed almost painfully, unattended. His nipples were stiffly erect, being squeezed and vibrated.

But behind him, that was where the truly blissful feelings were, as L's relentless fingers brought the tension tighter and tighter with each thrust.

L said, "Excellent progress. We're up to three fingers now, so I believe it is time we tried a larger instrument."

Light could feel himself spreading inside at the thought of something more in there.

It happened smoothly, without any break in the rhythm. During one thrust it was fingers inside him, and the very next thrust it was something slightly wider and certainly longer, something smooth and hard and springy, going deeper and rubbing Light exactly where he wanted to be rubbed.

There was a stretching feeling, almost too much, but with each thrust it was better and Light wanted more of it. The pressure was intense against that one spot as the object plowed past it over and over again in a relentless rhythm.

Light managed to gasp out, "What... what is that?"

L said, "It's... ah... it's my penis. I'm fucking you, Light."

It was good, so very good, but it wasn't enough.

"Fuck me harder," Light panted.

The tempo increased, the driving force spreading Light over and over and getting deep within, where it was tight and slick and oh so very needed.

L's voice was husky and trembling slightly as he said, "I'm afraid our little session has turned me on enormously and I'm going to come any moment now."

Cool fingers fumbled underneath Light's belly as the driving pressure continued from above. Light wanted L's erection to go deeper, deeper than was possible. He wanted to be reamed in half.

The instant L's fingers contacted Light's swollen cock, it suddenly erupted in an explosive orgasm. Light closed his eyes and whimpered as what felt like impossible quantities of semen surged out of him, pouring onto the sheets in distinct waves of pleasure; each continued brush of L's hard penis against that magic spot inside him turning up the intensity to another level. It was a drawn out, increasing, almost unbearable orgasm that had him at its mercy.

Crying out mindlessly and thrashing, he couldn't think. He teeth ached and his entire body shook from the sustained pleasure as he drenched the sheets beneath him.

He was only dimly aware of L gasping above him and a sudden rush of warm fluid inside.

It felt as if all the tension his body had ever held was releasing at once, blissfully. It was all flowing out of him.

Without the continued driving force inside, Light began settling into a comfortable, warm, glowing sense of relief that washed through his entire body.

When he could breathe evenly enough to talk, he said, "So... that's... that's it. That's what it's like."

L hummed somewhere near Light's ear and then said, "Are you jealous that I've been experiencing this for weeks now?"

Light said, "Can you turn off the vibrating nipple clamps? Now they just feel annoying."

* * *

 **A/N (Author's Note):**

Well, this is the first of the "Smutty Shorts" that wasn't written specifically as a fill for the Death Note kink meme. However, it is a prompt-fic of a sort. I made a comment on the livejournal community fanficrants that a lot of people seemed to like and that one person suggested I turn into a fic, so I wrote this shortly afterward.


	6. Take a Seat Over There

**CHAPTER 6 of "Smutty Shorts"**

 **Title:** "Take a Seat Over There"

 **Author:** Sashocirrione

 **Spoilers:** Spoilers for the second half of the series.

 **Warnings:** NO UNDERAGE READERS. Rated M for references to rape, references to pedophilia and implied violence.

 **Summary:** The SPK faces their worst enemy yet: Pedobear.

 **Pairing:** PedobearxNear, sort of, plus possibly other implied pairings.

 **Additional Notes:** All canon events (other than the ones referenced inside this fic as different) have happened as normal. However, it is silly and has almost nothing to do with canon events. Pedobear is an internet meme character and if you've never heard of him before you probably won't understand this story unless you look him up first.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Death Note, and I do not make any money from these writings.

* * *

Pedobear had arrived at the SPK headquarters, slinking through a door and exclaiming, "Aha!"

Halle Lidner, Stephen Gevanni and Anthony Rester were already tied to their chairs, bound and gagged. They struggled and tried to make noises at seeing the most famous pedophile in the world, a prize that every law enforcement agent in the world wanted to arrest once and for all.

Near was lying on his side on the floor, surrounded by stacks of toys that partially obscured his form. He seemed unconcerned.

Pedobear said, "Well, well! I'm going to rape you, little boy, and there is nothing your friends can do about it."

Near said, "I wouldn't mind that at all. I'm curious about sex."

Pedobear laughed and then said, "I love it when they think they're consenting!"

He began to approach his target in a stalking manner, but when he was halfway there, Near said, "By the way, Mr. Bear, I think I should tell you something. I'm eighteen years old."

Pedobear stopped, unbelieving. He said, "No, no! Look at how baby-faced you are."

"It's not unusual to reach age eighteen with the face of a twelve-year-old."

Pedobear stuttered, "But... But... you're short!"

"There are plenty of short people in the world. Some of them are even elderly."

"But you're in your cute little-boy pajamas... and you're surrounded by toys!"

Near fiddled with the arm on a _Transformers_ robot and said, "The reason, Mr. Bear, that I play with toys is to keep my hands occupied. As long as my hands are occupied, I am able to dampen and redirect my urges to become a serial killer. If I were ever deprived of toys, things would go very badly. As to my attire, it is simply a way to conserve time. Staying in my pajamas eliminates the five to ten minutes each day that would otherwise be wasted on dressing, leaving me more time for detective work."

"Detective... work?"

"Yes, I take many big cases, but sometimes I still can't fill up my schedule and so I do some extra work on the side. This is a sting operation. I've been partnering with Chris Hansen and I think you should take a seat over there."

Pedobear screamed and ran through a door. Near didn't even bother to glance up. He knew Pedobear had run exactly into the trap and had surely spotted Chris Hansen. A second scream confirmed his thoughts.

Near said, "What a poorly-drawn bear! He is obviously the work of an inferior artist."

Halle made a noise through her gag.

Near said, "It seems a waste to untie all of you now. We could all have some completely adult bondage fun. Are you sure you want to be untied?"

All of them made affirmative noises, so Near managed to get to his feet and walked over there to untie them.

* * *

 **A/N (Author's Note):**

This was written as a fill for a prompt at the Death Note Kink Meme 2 (it is on livejournal at dn_kink2).


	7. Tentacles Again

**CHAPTER 7 of "Smutty Shorts"**

 **Title:** "Tentacles Again"

 **Author:** Sashocirrione

 **Spoilers:** Minor spoilers for the first half of the series.

 **Warnings:** NO UNDERAGE READERS. Rated M for a reason. Non-consenting sexual activities with a non-human partner.

 **Summary:** L finds himself in the difficult circumstance of getting targeted by tentacles over and over again.

 **Pairing:** TentaclesxL

 **Additional Notes:** Except for the tentacles being involved, all canon events previous to the beginning of this fic have happened as normal.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Death Note, and I do not make any money from these writings.

* * *

When one tentacle suddenly snaked around his foot, L leapt from his chair even though he knew it was futile and useless. As expected, new tentacles spouted from the floor in his path, and quickly swarmed over him, strong, sinuous, and clammy with the special slime that always coated them. In moments they had made any further forward progress impossible.

There was never any escape from them; they could sprout from any surface, reach any distance, and once they decided they liked a human, they would return to visit that particular victim again and again.

L screamed as his feet were anchored firmly to the floor and an adventurous tentacle slid up his shirt, entering it at the bottom and feeling its way up his chest, tiny mini-tentacles from its tip tweaking his left nipple, a nipple that was hardening under the expert ministrations. The tentacles were as skilled as well-trained prostitutes, knowing all the techniques, using every advantage to arouse. L hated the slight heat he could feel already beginning to gather in his groin.

In his peripheral vision, he could see Soichiro, Matsuda and Aizawa quickly clearing out of the hotel room, taking a wide berth around. They weren't favored victims, so they'd be ignored as long as they didn't interfere, but if they got too close they would get pulled in and raped too, as an afterthought.

L screamed again and attempted to kick, though his foot only moved just slightly. The tentacles had supernatural strength. He cast his glance around, looking for the knife Watari had earlier been using to cut cake, but it was too far to possibly reach. Not that cutting the tentacles did any good. More simply grew to replace them. But it gave L a slight sense of relief to inflict pain on his aggressor, whenever he could.

A second tentacle entered the bottom of his shirt and rose up, beginning to play with his right nipple, wetly laving it with caresses and gentle pinches that were so... so...

 _No! I don't like this!_

L reached up, grasping the slippery tentacles, trying to pull them away. It was futile. His heart was beating fast, his stomach sick and churning, and yet that heat in his lower groin was already beginning to produce a partial erection, an erection that hadn't even been touched yet.

The tiny tentacles encircling each nipple squeezed and tweaked, making his nipples ache.

L knew it was the same for every victim of the tentacles, but that thought didn't comfort him, it only really made it worse, to think of all those people who couldn't escape, who were always aroused and forced to climax by the tentacles whether they wanted it or not. The tentacles were relentlessly arousing, always bringing their victims to orgasm, without a single failure.

The only possible comforting thought was that this experience wouldn't happen any more once the case was solved.

 _It is only a little while until Light starts college, and I'll catch him soon after. My plan has to work. And then I'll be gone from this accursed place, this land of the tentacle monsters. I'll never return to Japan again._

Several more big tentacles entered L's shirt and when one of those rose out of the collar and tried to enter L's mouth he bit it as hard as he could. It retreated, and he panted, hoping sickly but knowing it wouldn't really work. The tentacles never truly retreated; they only hesitated and then tried again.

Fighting them was still worth it, though. It was the only way L thought he could endure the shame, if he fought hard every time. And he hoped, he always hoped that with his sharp mind he would someday discover a weakness of the tentacles, a way to force them to retreat forever.

The big tentacle returned, covering his mouth so he couldn't breathe, and then the little tentacles at its tip began slithering into L's nose. He knew this technique. He punched and scratched at the big tentacle, and tried to hook his fingers in to rip away the little ones, but they were too strong. More and more entered his nose, making him sick and tickling horribly inside and cutting off his air bit by bit. He waited until he was dizzy to take a big gasping breath, and then the big one was suddenly in his mouth, pumping in and out of his throat, gagging him and forcing him to take his breaths in rhythms around its movements.

He couldn't stop his mind from speculating and thinking, just as it always did, and for perhaps the hundredth time he wondered whether the legend that was used to explain this phenomena was true. Had an ancient Chinese monk truly lain a curse on Japan after a trade deal went sour, a curse that it would be troubled forever by tentacle demons? Surely, the total absence of the phenomena outside of Japan's borders had to be a significant clue...

 _Breathe... Breathe... Breathe..._

Suddenly, several tentacles at once began fiddling with the button to his jeans. L screamed as well as he could manage, just because he was angry, and lashed out by scratching at the offending tentacles. It did nothing to stop them. His jeans were unbuttoned and unzipped, the tentacles seeming to get excited, even caressing his suddenly very hard cock through the underwear.

And then his jeans were down to his knees and L was sobbing, in need and humiliation, mindlessly still trying to kick and claw and punch and just... he wanted it and hated it, knowing, anticipating, his mind breaking down in horror, inflamed with lust.

He lurched when his underwear was at last torn off too and a sweet, horrendous tentacle began circling the fevered, swollen flesh between his legs, slipping round and round in the shape of a spring wound around his dick, and then the encircling loops of tentacle began giving him an exquisitely talented, slow, relentless hand-job. He stared and tried to flinch away as the very tip of the tentacle kissed the tip of his penis and numerous tiny tentacles began sliding inside the urethra, almost unbearably intense. It made him want to scream when he was invaded that way. His hips twitched in every direction, twisting this way and that, but the mini-tentacles were uncaring, continuing to violate eagerly, plowing that tiny hole with all their vigor.

He knew what they were doing. Each tentacle was capable of climax, and at climax the tip of each larger tentacle laid many small eggs, while the miniature tentacles released sticky sperm to fertilize those eggs. The one in his throat was almost done, he could feel. It was beginning to pulse already.

Later, he would be taken to a hospital and hooked up to a special machine that would flush his orifices with a substance that caused most eggs to drop away from his mucus membranes, but it was never enough. Weeks later, he knew he'd be coughing up or sneezing out or otherwise expelling the results, tiny clusters of tentacles hardly bigger than a fingertip, and they'd disappear into whatever surface they fell on, destined to sprout full-grown at some later time.

The one in his throat finished, withdrawing, softer, thinner and very sticky, but before he could properly recover another tentacle pushed right back in, replacing it, forcing him to breathe around it in that same rhythm he'd learned so well, to his complete disgust.

He could feel that the worst and the best part was about to happen. Many tentacles were circling his buttocks, massaging them slickly. It was always the ass that interested them the most, and yet they took their time getting there. It was as if they had to decide among themselves which of the big tentacles would get that prime location.

L whimpered and suddenly jerked hard when he felt the process finally commence, a big one sliding along his crack, stopping right at the entrance and then the little ones at the tip of the big one playing with his sphincter, making him open and panting and wanting it and...

 _No!_

He just clamped down as hard as he could in spite, trying to force them out as he kicked yet again.

The tip-tentacles were sliding in and out, penetrating, and L shuddered in need and then felt the most horrible wave of disgust yet as the big one forced its full width inside and his ass accommodated it, opening up as it plumbed deeper, deeper. L shook from a nameless ache inside and tried his best to squirm away but there were so many tentacles now. They were encircling him everywhere, even lifting him off the floor, holding him in bondage in the air.

Somehow, the big one in his ass was making him even more aroused than the hand job. He could feel his orgasm beginning to slowly yet relentlessly approach as the big one pumped in and out slickly, riding on its own incredibly slippery slime. And then, just as he'd known would happen, more little ones from the tips of other big tentacles were prodding his sphincter, trying to get in on that most desired location.

When they succeeded, his ass burned from the stretch. He couldn't take it, and yet there was nothing he'd ever felt better than this, the one big tentacle and numerous small ones pumping, penetrating him at different rhythms and angles, hitting every possible spot inside, including the most sensitive one. L could feel his prostate swelling under the attention.

 _No! Stop it!_

He knew there were tears on his face. He tried to think about anything other than what was happening, to no avail. He struggled fiercely as his orgasm approached, even despite knowing that it would make all the tentacles climax and withdraw, putting an end to the ordeal. It was the only possible end, and yet he fought it and sobbed and closed his eyes as what felt like the hardest, most swollen erection he'd ever had in his life began spurting.

A blinding pleasure. It consumed him, mind and body.

He saw nothing but white behind his eyelids as he released and released, and was dimly aware of the excited tentacles going faster in and out of every orifice and spilling their own loads.

It was a shameful, intense peak and he didn't care about anything for a few moments, riding out the waves of pleasure rippling through his body from the source between his legs and pulsing electrically outwards, even to his tingling fingertips.

He was settling onto the floor in a puddle of goo. Sticky things were withdrawing from him in every direction.

L breathed in and out, trying to control the sobs, and then screamed again, a primal hatred coursing through him. When he could, he stumbled to the hotel bathroom and began the preliminary clean-up, to make himself presentable enough to ride to the hospital for the big purge.

His only consolation was that Light had never witnessed the tentacles victimizing him. Hopefully, he never would.

* * *

 **A/N (Author's Note):**

This was written as a fill for a prompt at the Death Note Kink Meme 2 (it is on livejournal at dn_kink2).

Sorry about not getting the GevannixMello one finished yet. I'm still editing it and I think that fic will probably be chapter 8.


	8. Pervert

**CHAPTER 8 of "Smutty Shorts"**

 **Title:** "Pervert"

 **Author:** Sashocirrione

 **Spoilers:** MAJOR Spoilers for everything up to chapter 58 of the manga and episode 25 of the anime, plus a spoiler for Watari's real name.

 **Warnings:** NO UNDERAGE READERS. Rated M for a reason. Sexual activities. Mild violence and threats of severe violence.

 **Summary:** Rem watches L and Misa have sex.

 **Pairing:** LxMisa

 **Additional Notes:** Canon is altered as little as I could alter it in order to make the events of this fic possible. It's a divergent AU. Also, an obscure shinigami rule is used.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Death Note, and I do not make any money from these writings.

* * *

 _Don't trust him. Don't trust him. Don't trust him._

The mantra beat inside Rem's head, an expression of terror and hatred. Terror for what might happen to Misa if things went wrong, if that cruel electronic voice of some cold and distant detective ever should pronounce Misa ready to be put on trial. And hatred for Light Yagami, the man who had brought so much danger close to Misa, the man who had refused to tell his entire plan to Rem but simply sent her off, assuring her it would all work out, though she had her doubts.

Rem had found her way to Higuchi, where she fretted as the days ticked by, hoping that L must indeed release Misa because of the deaths restarting while both Kiras were locked up, away from the news that would tell them the names of new criminals.

Well, there was a way around the issue of trusting Light. Rem hadn't told Light everything. There was a secret method to check up on his progress, maybe even to influence events more in Misa's favor instead of Light's. That was why Rem told Higuchi about a very obscure shinigami rule: if the human death note owner gives permission for a trip, the shinigami who is attached to that notebook can roam on a journey much longer than the usual distance restriction. As long as you stayed in the human world, and as long as you returned to the human owner soon, it was permitted.

Light had seemingly disappeared off the face of the earth, not existing at his home or his university, and his mother and sister talked as if they didn't know where he was either. But Misa was easy to find. She was in the same place, still blindfolded and in a straightjacket, the only difference being that she was now allowed to sit through her days of tedium.

That same electronic voice of an unfindable, distant L asked her questions relentlessly, which she answered far too honestly in her memory-impaired state; and the same old man, with the name Quillsh Wammy floating above his head, attended to Misa's daily needs.

Rem's anger grew and grew as the situation continued, as she debated with herself about whether to abandon Light's plan, kill or mind-wipe Higuchi, and then break out Misa physically. Misa wasn't due to die soon, but she was obviously miserable.

And then, there was a break. The distorted voice said that Misa would be let free at a particular day and time. Rem made sure to be there, watching nervously as Misa, with her eyes uncovered but still handcuffed, was taken away in a car driven by Light's father. And then, after a drive, Light was picked up from his own distant holding cell, and the two were told that they were being driven to their execution.

It wasn't true, of course. Rem could see that by the lifespans above their heads. They would both live.

Rem was apprehensive but excited as Soichiro detoured, explaining his plan, his plan that would supposedly leave Light and himself dead but Misa unharmed, for the moment. Rem hoped Soichiro would do it. Perhaps Light would be brain-damaged for life, or in a coma. Rem didn't care as the gun came around to rest against Light's head. As long as Misa was unharmed, it would be all for the good if Light became unable to carry out his evil plans.

The gun went off in a cough of smoke and heat, nothing but a blank, and then that hated electronic voice was back, explaining the trick and saying that Light and Misa had earned partial freedom. They would be watched, with Light chained to the detective himself, but Misa could come and go as long as she had a police officer to watch her, free to continue her career.

Rem visited less often after that, just occasional visits to bask in Misa's new happiness and to try to figure out what Light's plan might be, those hidden pieces of the scheme that even Light himself had forgotten. To outmaneuver Light, that was the new goal. It seemed that it should be easy, with Light completely unaware and the new Kira at Rem's potential beck and call.

Even destroying L should not be an issue. It would be as simple as tricking or forcing Higuchi to accept the eye deal and then exposing L's face to him, without exposing or endangering Misa in the process. The only reason Rem hadn't done it already was that it seemed from talk among L's employees that L's death would trigger some trap or else would cause heavy suspicion to fall back on Light and Misa. It was obviously best to wait until a better time.

And then, right in the middle of those months of waiting and scheming, just as summer was drawing to an end, the most unexpected event turned everything upside-down.

Rem really couldn't believe her eyes when she came to visit Misa and found L off the chain and just entering Misa's front door, hunched over further than usual, his hands thrust deep in his pockets, shuffling in an uncertain manner as Misa beckoned him inside.

In a surly tone, Misa said, "Is Light chained to Watari again?"

"Yes," L replied.

She stalked over to him, reaching up to his shoulders to grab the fabric and knotted her fingers there, yanking him down to her level, mashing their lips together in an aggressive kiss on her part that he barely, tepidly met.

When Misa broke it off, she said, "Go sit on the sofa. And don't offer me any cake this time!"

Silently, L obeyed. Misa disappeared into her bathroom to primp and adjust her hair for a few minutes, and then returned to sit on the sofa beside L.

"You sit the wrong way," Misa said, "it's time to straighten your legs."

She grabbed his bare feet and pulled them out from under him, unbalancing and rotating his body at the same time, until she had him completely stretched out, laying on his back and taking up the entire length of the sofa. His eyes were open and solemn, very wide, his gaze fastened on Misa. The tiniest slice of pale, smooth stomach showed where his shirt was riding up.

"Now there's not any room for me! You did that on purpose, didn't you? Pervert! You're forcing me to sit on you, Ryuzaki."

Rem couldn't help but drift closer to the strange proceedings as Misa settled onto L's knees. To see Misa ordering around the great detective and him being submissive and obedient, it was completely impossible to comprehend. And, perhaps, it would have some important bearing on the case's unfolding, revealing some piece of vital information.

Not watching was not an option.

Misa's hands played along the edges of L's jeans, then pushed his shirt even higher on his stomach and undid the front of his jeans, yanking them down, revealing underwear, and then that was yanked down too, to reveal his rather undignified male parts nestled into the hollow between his legs.

Rem drifted even closer. Usually, humans did not show these parts. They looked rather ugly, but also cute, small and vulnerable. The part like a short, fat worm began rising and lengthening. L's breath caught as Misa grabbed it.

"What's this? You perv! Did I tell you that you could do that? Your penis is going to get all huge now and I'll have to sit on it."

Misa snapped her fingers against it in a painful-looking way, but it only became larger in response, so large in comparison to its earlier state that Rem had trouble believing it. Now, the penis was rearing up like a pillar, bobbing just slightly, the tip swollen and protruding.

Misa let out an annoyed-sounding huff, pulled a condom out of her purse, tore the package open with her teeth and then began unrolling it over L's organ. L still said nothing but he blinked slowly several times during the process, and both of them were breathing faster.

Rem understood the basics of sex, but she hadn't seen it for a long time, and then only by accident. It didn't seem likely that something that size could go into Misa without trouble, into a place where Misa had no obvious hole but only a series of folds.

It was surprising, therefore, when Misa climbed up L's body, straddling his crotch, and simply lowered herself onto that stiff rod with a loud sigh, one long stroke and it had disappeared inside her, her mini-skirt riding up on her spread legs, showing her complete lack of panties. Her face was reddened, her breaths even louder than before.

L showed surprisingly little reaction as she rode him, only closing his eyes more frequently and breathing harder. Her blond hair and her jewelry swung in time with her vigorous thrusts, and her small breasts bounced just a bit, but he was strangely motionless.

Even his hands lay limply at his sides, completely passive until Misa snarled at him and said, "You're a lazy, selfish child, not a man! Do I have to force you to make me come?"

And then he let her guide one of his hands underneath her skirt, and when she had it moving against her in a rhythm that made her gasp and made her thrusts irregular, she stopped guiding it and he continued just the same way, that one motion, mechanical, of a largely still body.

She moved down over him again and again, and his hand repeated the learned motion, until she suddenly leaned backwards, an arch in her spine and her neck at once, still riding him, just slowly, and let out a series of high-pitched breathy moans.

After a few verbal insults, she continued the ride and made him bring her to that blissful state twice more before everything about her demeanor suddenly changed. At once, she looked so angry, so red-faced, that Rem at first started forward instinctively for Misa's safety, before she realized Misa was also smiling.

Misa's crouch was lower, predatory, and she wrapped her hands around L's throat, provoking the first strong facial expression he'd had, something like excitement and fear mixed together. He gasped raspily as she choked him and rode harder than ever.

"You pervert!" Misa shouted, "You like this, don't you?"

L struggled slightly, very slightly, and his face became red, and then some sort of force seemed to suddenly move through his body, his hips twitching, his muscles alternately tight and loose. Misa let up her choke-hold and they were both panting, eye-to-eye, staring at each other. L's face was slowly returning to its normal pale color.

Misa hopped up, pulled the condom away, tied it into a knot and threw it into the trash perfectly. L sat up and rubbed his nose, then stood and pulled his clothing back into place in a few awkward lurches. He stared at her with his finger in his mouth, and she, from a few paces away, stood with her arms crossed and feet fidgeting. It seemed odd that it should be over so quickly and unceremoniously.

L said, "Then, at three o'clock tomorrow too?"

"Yes, you know that. Pervert! You need it every day, don't you?"

"Perhaps Misa is the one who needs it every day. She is considerably wet every time I put a finger inside her."

Misa stuck up her nose and said, "If you weren't a pervert, you wouldn't like such weird things. Go away, Ryuzaki."

He turned and wandered out of the room as if nothing had happened. Misa picked up a magazine and began paging through it. Rem was still trying to process what had just happened. L and Misa didn't seem like the sort of people who would hook up with each other, for any reason, let alone repeatedly. And yet, they apparently had a thing, a regular thing.

The mating that humans were so obsessed with, it was oddly fascinating, strangely grotesque. It looked ugly and awful and yet it made humans so happy. Yes, happy.

Here was the happiness that Misa hadn't found with Light. With L, it seemed like a very strange relationship, full of feigned anger, certainly not what Rem would have chosen for Misa. But it was far nicer than anything Light had offered. Better yet, it did not come with a partner who had clearly been scheming to kill a shinigami.

 _L may be dangerous, but he's not as dangerous as Light and he could be a very powerful protector for Misa. If Light's plan does end up hinging on my death, I will immediately go to L in secret and offer an alliance._

* * *

 **A/N (Author's Note):**

This is a fill for a request on the Death Note Kink Meme 2, on livejournal at dn_kink2. The original request reads:

"Rem is watching either L and Light have sex or L and Misa. Your choice of either pairing! Or a threesome! L with Light, Misa or both as Rem observes.

Ryuk gets to watch the sexytimes so much in fic, and poor Rem almost never!"


	9. Parental Influence

**CHAPTER 9 of "Smutty Shorts"**

 **Title:** "Parental Influence"

 **Author:** Sashocirrione

 **Spoilers:** Spoilers for everything up to nearly episode 25 of the anime, chapter 58 of the manga.

 **Warnings:** NO UNDERAGE READERS. Rated M for a reason. Sexual activities.

 **Summary:** Light's father tells him about the time that he was chained to Sachiko, then a serial murder suspect.

 **Pairing(s):** SoichiroxSachiko, with maybe the smallest hint of LxLight

 **Additional Notes:** All canon events previous to the start of this fanfic have happened as normal. Since canon tells us almost nothing about Light's family pre-canon, the events of this fanfic could be viewed as either a point of divergence or as a canon-compliant behind-the-scenes aside.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Death Note, and I do not make any money from these writings.

* * *

It was all a rush of activity after the fake execution. The only good spot in the entire fiasco was the immense relief Light had felt when L had said that Light would be allowed to join the investigation.

Light wanted to investigate Kira. He hated Kira, he burned with a fierce desire to make him pay for everything, and he wanted L by his side and his father at his back when that bastard was finally brought down.

If Light hadn't been allowed to join the investigation or conduct his own independently, he knew he would have simply exploded from frustration. L letting him in was the best news Light could possibly have been given at that point.

But there was a condition: those handcuffs. There was some shock in Light's system when he saw that by "being with me 24/7" L had actually meant, "being chained together at all times." No chain, no access to the investigation, and pursuing a separate investigation alone was expressly forbidden for a suspect.

And then Misa had made the gay joke or accusation or whatever that was, and L had answered with, "I'm not doing this because I want to; I'm doing this because I have to," which had seemed to settle the matter in everyone else's minds, but it had really been an evasive L-style answer after all, not revealing anything or even directly answering the question, if you really thought about it.

Which wasn't even the primary concern. No, the primary concern was that L would be there all the time, staring and staring, and, yes, he was enjoyable company and great for having a conversation with, but he was also a weirdo, and who knows what he did in his free time.

Light imagined L's recreation was some kind of sophisticated stalking hobby disguised as detective work, such as viewing surveillance cameras in subways, streets and stores in hopes of catching "criminal activity" but really trying to get up-skirt shots of women or perhaps of men scratching their balls when they thought nobody was looking.

It was worth it, though, to catch Kira. No matter what it might be like to have someone invasively close all the time for perhaps weeks or months, it was completely worth it to catch Kira, and to work alongside the world's greatest detective. Perhaps it would be a tremendous career boost, too, a ladder to better things and great honors and the type of job position that would give Light the worshipful pride of the best level-headed girls, ones like Takada, rather than Misa's loud clinginess.

And so it was only with a little bit of trepidation that Light finished out the work day chained to L and began to prepare for bed in the evening, as the men went home one by one. He knew he'd have to stay in the hotel, as the new skyscraper headquarters that L had built wasn't quite ready yet. It would only be the slightest bit of time living in hotel suites, with Misa locked into the (thankfully, sound-proof) suite next door, and then the living situation would become much more spacious.

L, for his part, was quiet and gracious and seemed as if he were trying not to intrude, barely aware of the chain. He wasn't odd at all when they brushed their teeth together or when they crowded into the hotel's shower to clean themselves. It was just like any locker-room or public-bath situation, with L keeping his hands to himself and not staring too much, and L didn't even make a joke when Light dropped the soap.

It was when it came time to sleep that things became weird. As Light changed into the pajamas his father had brought, L simply stripped off all clothing and stretched out on the bed nude.

Already thinking it was futile, Light never the less said, "I'm sure we can get you some pajamas or underwear."

"No," L said, with a finger hooked into the corner of his mouth, "I do not sleep easily, and if I must sleep more hours for the sake of your comfort, then I simply cannot endure such things."

At that very moment, Light had heard a throat being roughly cleared behind him and turned around to see his father, having silently entered the back bedroom, shifting from foot to foot.

"Dad," Light said, "I thought you went home."

"I almost did, but I stopped on the way out and-"

L interrupted with, "I'm not trying to seduce your son, Chief Yagami. I can tell you are worried, but this has nothing to do with your own situation or with your son's probable homosexuality."

Light sputtered, "What? You think-"

L said, in an almost bored tone, "Light, it isn't useful to get in a fight about whether you are homosexual or not. People with your level of concern about society's expectations rarely admit their orientation even to themselves until approximately age twenty. Although, now that the subject has been brought up so directly, I calculate that the odds that you will try to hit on me has risen from a mere five percent to at least twenty percent."

Something clicked in Light's brain and he realized just how thoroughly he'd been side-tracked. He turned to face his father and said, "What did L mean by 'your own situation'? What's going on?"

Soichiro turned red and shuffled slowly over to the bed to sit on the edge. Light recognized the stance and the bodily mannerisms, something he hadn't seen in his father since boyhood. Soichiro was about to start a serious talk. Something was very, very wrong.

He stammered, "Light, ah, you were... you were conceived slightly out of wedlock-"

"I know that, Dad. I can do the math."

"Your mother, she was a very beautiful woman. Her hair was long, almost to her waist, and you would hardly believe how her face looked then. She couldn't walk past any man without his eyes following her."

 _Then this is a sex talk. How disgusting!_

"Dad, if this is about condoms, I already know about that. If, by some complete insanity, I decided to, um, have sex with L, which would never happen, by the way, I-"

L said, "Remember to call me Ryuzaki. You really don't know what happened to your father, Light?"

"What?"

Soichiro said, "Light, when you're chained to someone, certain urges and incidents can-"

L said, "Sachiko Yagami, though she had a different surname then, was the prime suspect in the nine o'clock serial murder case, in which victims were murdered in a highly specific way at nine o'clock each night. There was not, however, enough evidence to jail her, and so to prove her innocence she offered herself to be voluntarily under the watch of any police officer until the nine o'clock murderer should strike during the time when she had such an alibi."

Soichiro said, "There were some problems at first. I was watching her, but she escaped my view at some critical moments, and so one night I asked for us to be joined by chained handcuffs until just after nine and she assented. Everyone else in the office had gone home from work for the evening, and I was there just with her when nine o'clock arrived and the news came in that the murderer had struck again. I was going to let her go then, but the key was missing, and-"

Soichiro looked down at the floor, his face a mask of shock. Light felt the same way. He wanted to speak out, to somehow stop the horrid story from spilling out of his father's mouth, but he was paralyzed in place, sickened and hardly able to believe it. And, deep inside, Light had an inkling that L would see to it that the entire story was told anyway.

Soichiro continued with, "Light, we... we had such an adventure looking for the keys, and while she was bent over a desk I fell on her just slightly, and she kind of groaned when I pulled away, and I thought I'd hurt her and when I turned to help she pulled her skirt up and she reached into my pants, and I was so aroused I couldn't take it any more. I crawled onto that desk, on top of her-"

Light choked.

"-and we were kissing furiously. I began to take her, and I thought I was crazy, but the only things in my mind were the heat of her skin and her thighs clenching around me, and the way she twisted underneath me and arched up over and over. She had two screaming orgasms very quickly, one after another. She shouted, 'Fuck me, policeman' until I came inside her."

Light sputtered as Soichiro put his hands into his face and said, "Forgive me, but I took her again and again, against the wall and on every desk in that office. It was just something that happened. The other times, I remembered to use condoms, but it was too late. She was confirmed as pregnant with you two weeks later."

L said, "Light, if you are afraid that you have some kind of genetic predisposition towards being sexually attracted by handcuffs and chains, be reassured. That sort of thing is only a superstition."

Light said, "Don't worry, Ryuzaki. After this, I never want to have sex or even hear about sex. Ugh!"

"Although," L said, "if you are worried about inheriting the predisposition to being a serial killer, I'm afraid that does happen."

"My wife is innocent!"

"It wasn't actually proven," L said, "and the nine o'clock killer was never found. Getting a proxy to commit one murder or relying on the phenomenon of a copy-cat eventually stepping up, as often happens, is all that would be required."

Light pulled the covers up around himself, closed his eyes shut, and tried not to think about any of it.

* * *

 **A/N (Author's Note):**

This is, you guessed it, a kink meme fill again.

The request was:

"L/Light the handcuff period.

Mr. Yagami is being overprotective of his son. Mr. Yagami accidentally reveals that that was how he met his wife. Sachiko was a suspect in a serial murder case and Light was conceived when Mr. Yagami was handcuffed to Sachiko and misplaced the key resulting in them being chained together overnight.

For Light this is definitely too much information-hearing about how his mother might be a serial killer and his parents having sex."

This is my second real SoichiroxSachiko lemon, with the first one being in "The Sugar Cube Fort."

Sorry about the GevannixMello smutty short that I was discussing before not appearing yet. That's still being edited and hopefully it won't be too long.

Right now, I'm putting most of my writing energy towards two projects, one of them a "big bang" that according to the rules of that community won't appear anywhere until it is entirely done, and the other an extreme content LxLight fic that I'm choosing not to upload to fanfiction dot net because of that extreme content.


	10. Worst Solution Ever

**CHAPTER 10 of "Smutty Shorts"**

 **Title:** "Worst Solution Ever"

 **Author:** Sashocirrione

 **Spoilers:** Spoilers for up to the middle point of the Yotsuba arc.

 **Warnings:** NO UNDERAGE READERS. Rated T for a reason. Sexually-themed discussion.

 **Summary:** L thinks of a solution to the strain of being in 24/7 close proximity to Light.

 **Pairing:** None, although various OC pairings are implied

 **Additional Notes:** All canon events have happened as normal.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Death Note, and I do not make any money from these writings.

* * *

It was not quite as difficult to be on the end of a chain as Light had supposed it might be. At first, everything was surprisingly normal and comfortable. L had already thought of a number of ingenious ways to make the experience more tolerable, and Light approved, well, of everything that L actually said. It was all rather the way Light would think of arranging things himself, if he had been in charge of how to live chained to another person.

There was also the presumed matter of what L didn't say.

Once L had finished describing to Light every last detail of how the living situation would be handled, from meals to sleeping to bathing, he stopped rather suddenly, so suddenly that Light thought L must have left something unsaid in front of the others. The unspoken detail or details gnawed at his mind, but L simply would not succumb to any of the tricks Light used and remained tight-lipped.

Late at night, that was when L brought up the topic again, when L had finally gone to bed and Light was almost ready to drift off to sleep, in a half-aware state of glancing over occasionally to see a wide-eyed L crouched on the bed, knees to his chest, a finger in his mouth as he stared upward.

"Let me apologize in advance," L said, "but I must be absolutely frank with you. When you were under surveillance in your house for five days, I observed that you never masturbated."

Light choked slightly and thought about whether ignoring the implied question would cause it to go away.

 _Probably not._

After a pause, L continued with, "I also observed that you never masturbated when in confinement for fifty days, though perhaps that would be due to having your hands restrained behind your back. What I must know now is whether I need to make any special arrangements for your sexual needs."

"No, I'm fine," Light quickly said, "I don't masturbate."

L shuffled slightly in place and said, "I don't masturbate either. It's a rather over-rated activity, I think."

 _Good! Now this won't be a problem and he'll never bring up the topic again._

Light had a rather disturbing image in his mind, of L and the task force (except his father who would certainly turn away) watching him on the monitors while he performed in a "private" room that was anything but truly private.

He banished the image and resolved to go to sleep.

Just then, L said, "I find that I can only get satisfaction from actual sex. In order to keep my mind undistracted and at an optimal level for functioning, I will be receiving a prostitute each Tuesday and Saturday. You don't need to watch, but I must continue to watch you regardless of what I'm doing, so I will position you in such a way that you'll be in view at all times."

 _Worst solution ever!_

Light groaned into the pillow incoherently, trying to think of some objection that would actually make sense to the socially-inept detective.

L absently scratched at the back of his neck, and in a near-monotone said, "If that makes you too aroused, you'll have to purchase your own prostitutes. I don't want to share mine at all. That would be very... unhygienic."

* * *

 **A/N (Author's Note):**

This is a tiny little fic that just kind of popped into my mind, so I wrote it and uploaded it to my "Smutty Shorts" collection, since it's only a scene and doesn't stand by itself very well. It's not a kink meme fill, and it does sort of relate to the same idea as I've expressed it in "The Visitor" but it's not meant to be part of the same continuity as that fanfic.


	11. Sausage

**CHAPTER 11 of "Smutty Shorts"**

 **Title:** "Sausage"

 **Author:** Sashocirrione

 **Spoilers:** Spoilers for roughly the first half of the series (though they are somewhat vague spoilers) plus minor spoilers for some Wammy's House background material that was revealed in the second half of the series.

 **Warnings:** Rated T for a reason. Implied sexual activities.

 **Summary:** Wammy's House orphans hear some odd things through a closed door.

 **Pairing:** LxLight or possibly LightxL and a peripheral MelloxMatt or MattxMello

 **Additional Notes:** This is a vague sort of AU that diverged from the canon storyline a few years previous to the story's start. Exactly how it diverged, and the details that led up to this fic, are both left deliberately unclear. Also, like almost every author who writes about Wammy's House, I've had to make up details since very little is known from canon.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Death Note, and I do not make any money from these writings.

* * *

It _was_ possible to be a genius and still be very, very naive, Mello reflected. Yet he was there with all the others, participating in their foolishness, just for the sake of competition. That was all. No other motives directed him, certainly not. Most certainly not any...

Through the simple fact of audio equipment pressed against the door, sounds from within the room were transmitted to the hallway where they were all gathered.

L's voice said, "Mmmmmpfh! I love your sausage, Light!"

Near's face was impassive. It was the reaction of either an asexual, an emotional robot, or someone who simply didn't get it, and Near was probably all three rolled up into one.

One of the younger boys said, "I thought we were out of sausage? When did L and Light cook any?"

"Silly," answered a girl, "L wouldn't eat any sausage unless it was some kind of specialty gourmet sausage saturated with sugar or chocolate... maybe something like candied ham. Of course they bought their own sausage, separate from the supply used by our cooks."

Obscene slurping sounds proceeded from the audio equipment, gradually getting louder and more vigorous. Mello exchanged a glance with Matt, and saw that the usually-stoic gamer was blushing just slightly, a bit of pink dusted across the bridge of his nose.

Matt didn't stop what he was doing: hacking the electronic lock for the door. There were rewards given by L for all sorts of investigative skills, even those involving sneaky, invasive actions that inconvenienced L himself. It was something L called "hands-on training" and it had been going on ever since L had moved into the orphanage along with his... friend, a few years after the Kira case had mysteriously fizzled out.

Light said, "I admire the... firmness," muffled, as if he were talking around something in his mouth.

One of them let out a sensuous, pleasure-laden moan.

A few more people in the audience suddenly got it, from the expressions on their faces. It was still only about half who seemed to be in the know, mostly the older ones, teens nearest to Mello's age. Nobody suggested stopping. Wammy's House didn't raise orphans who were respectful or well-behaved, much to Roger's consternation. No, it was oddballs and rebels all the way. It was good because it meant being allowed to be rebellious. It was bad because it meant rubbing elbows with annoying oddballs like...

There was a series of smacks, the creak of old bed springs depressing, the sliding of cloth or perhaps pillows, and then there was a wordless cry, sounding almost painful.

"Ah, don't stop!" L said.

And then their voices were rising together, Light wordless, L falling into a rhythmic pattern of repeating, "Don't stop! Don't stop!"

Near paused in fiddling with his toy robot and his large, solemn eyes drifted upward, staring at the door.

The same boy who had earlier wondered about the sausage said, "Now they're playing video games! They've got the mute on, but it must be very exciting! They're all panting! Probably scoring lots of points!"

At the word, "scoring," nearly a dozen of those present snickered.

Matt suddenly said, "That's it then. It'll open."

Near reached out a tiny sock-clad foot to press on the door as one of the girls turned the handle.

Mello looked at Matt for some reason. Whatever they would see, the anticipation was making him feel...

The door swung open. Visible, there was only a tangle of motion under a blanket and then L and Light's heads both popped out from under that blanket.

Light's gaze looked positively murderous, but he said nothing.

"Ah, excellent work," L said, "we were doing some nude wrestling. The girls should leave."

Most of the girls left, and the last few were pushed out forcibly by boys at the back.

Near stumbled forward, only to crouch on the floor, and said in a monotone, "You are wrestling just like the Greeks at the ancient Olympics."

"That's exactly what we're doing," L said.

L's face was quite blank, his eyes like black mirrors.

"I get the reward," Matt said, "I hacked the door."

L said, "Do any others make a claim?"

Near said, "I helped at a crucial point. Without me, Matt might have possibly-"

"No way," Mello said, "Matt was about to think of that anyway. Maybe you saved him five seconds, that's all. You're not a real hacker, Near."

L said, "Do you concede, Near?"

"I deserve at least half credit."

L replied, "There is obviously only one way to solve this. Credit will be divided between Matt and Near with the largest portion going to the one who makes me the best cookies. Anyone who helps the winning side make those cookies will receive a few points. No credit or points will be handed out whatsoever unless this room remains undisturbed for..." L cast a hungry gaze at Light, "... for at least half an hour. Go!"

The room cleared out in moments. Mello ran beside Matt, towards the head of the mob. Near was being left far behind.

He exchanged a glance with his friend, panting, and considered for a few moments simply trusting that Near would flounder in the kitchen, in order to go on a little detour, to release some tension.

Mello's competitive nature rejected that rather tempting plan almost immediately. There would be time later.

* * *

 **A/N (Author's Note):**

This mini-fic simply started circulating in my mind a few days ago, and then I had to write it down or I would have forgotten it. Fortunately, it is extremely short, so I don't think it subtracted much writing time from the various unfinished fics that I've been neglecting lately (not through any fault of my own, my life has been hectic and full of burdens the past month or two).


	12. Indulgence

**CHAPTER 12 of "Smutty Shorts"**

**Title:** "Indulgence"

**Author:** Sashocirrione

**Spoilers:** Spoilers for everything up to nearly the end of the series. Also major spoilers for my fanfic "The Other Plan" since this chapter is an outtake from it.

**Warnings:** NO UNDERAGE READERS. Rated M for a reason. Sexual activities. References to previous rapes. Foodplay involving chocolate and tapioca pudding (warned in case foodplay puts you off those foods).

**Summary:** Stephen Gevanni finds himself getting rather turned on by spoon-feeding his prisoner Mello.

**Pairing:** GevannixMello

**Additional Notes:** This fic is set roughly in the timeline of another fanfic of mine, "The Other Plan" (it is set around chapter 11 of that fanfic) and could be considered to be an outtake or a deleted scene from that fanfic. It is not part of the "canon" of "The Other Plan" because I decided that it didn't really fit in there, so that is why I explore this concept separately as an outtake.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Death Note, and I do not make any money from these writings.

* * *

The young man in front of him had eyes blazing with defiance, and perhaps, Stephen thought as he shoved another spoonful into his willing mouth, perhaps there was something else there as well. The eyes were curious, searching, an almost frightening intelligence lurking behind them.

This was Mello, the shackled and straightjacket-clad mysterious rival from Near's past, real name unknown. If all the deductions worked out, then that would mean Mello had managed to kidnap Kira, rape him twice, and send video footage of the acts to Kira's father.

There was a good chance Mello was a dead man walking, about to succumb to Kira's pen, but if that happened, then the evidence would be unquestionable. Light Yagami would be proven as Kira.

If Light was smart enough, he wouldn't kill Mello, but then again, Light was being squeezed badly enough by circumstances that he might be forced to. If Light could kill everyone else on his trail fast enough afterwards, it wouldn't matter anyway; there would be no one left to deliver the proof of his guilt to any authorities who could order his execution.

It could really go either way.

Mello opened his mouth like a toddler, leaning forward, eyes silently begging, and so Stephen scooped up another spoonful of tapioca pudding and placed the spoon in Mello's mouth, allowing him to suck it clean, slowly, sensuously, his tongue rooting after every separate bubble-like globule, his eyes filled with calculations of some kind.

When Mello finished with the spoonful, he said, in a very matter-of-fact voice, "Do you want to fuck me, Stephen?"

Stephen said nothing. Near was surely watching through the cameras, and others probably were as well. They wouldn't care but... still.

"What is your game, Mello? You can't escape that way."

"Why would I want to escape? I have nothing to lose. I'll probably be dead in a few days."

Mello's voice was slightly husky and his entire stance had subtly altered. His lips were parted and perhaps a bit swollen, his eyes coquettish.

Mello said, "Don't you want to have that kind of sex, Stephen Gevanni? The kind of sex that a man has when he expects to die soon?"

Stephen swallowed.

Mello ran his tongue just slightly over his lips and said, "I promise you, I'll be the greatest fuck you've ever had."

"I wouldn't have thought you were the type of person who wants to bottom."

"Bottom, top, what does it matter? It all feels good if you know what you're doing. I know..." Mello licked his lips, "...exactly what I'm doing."

Stephen tried to put it out of his mind, to focus instead on other important issues.

_Does Mello know my name? He shouldn't have been able to find out the names of those others, but he did, nobody left now except the four of us to guard him. Was that his ploy, to send as many away as possible? Was he-_

"Hey! Feed me!"

Mello had his mouth open in a round "O" again, and this time he was making come-here motions with his tongue. Stephen raised another spoonful of the dripping concoction to Mello's lips and spooned it in.

Mello sucked on the spoon sensuously, giving it a little blow job. The end was perfect too, a little blob of "cum" gracing the edge of Mello's bottom lip. He'd surely left it there artistically.

Stephen felt his underwear getting rather tight. There had been something about Mello even before his little displays of erotic eating; Stephen didn't know what it was. His brash confidence? His risk-taking? The way that his leather pants hugged his girlish hips?

Stephen was shoving another mouthful in, just a bit roughly, making Mello choke at first, but then he recovered and effortlessly deep-throated the spoon, taking it far, far in, swallowing around it, and then letting it pop out of his mouth clean of pudding.

That bastard had way too smug of a look on his face. Stephen wanted to push him down and... and...

Mello whispered, "I can guarantee Near _won't care_ who is fucking who. Think of it as a last meal, but better. I'll want to savor every... single... moment."

The pudding was almost gone. Stephen reached out with the spoon to scoop out the last bits, but Mello said, "Leave it. If you don't have real lube on hand, we'll need it."

With an indicating jab of his chin in the proper direction, Mello added, "Feed me that chocolate bar."

The next moments felt like foreplay, as Stephen unwrapped the bar, Mello's nostrils flaring at the first crackling of the wrapper, his gaze becoming intense and yet relaxed, languid. When Stephen held the bar up to Mello's lips, he nibbled sensuously down the side of the bar, lips ghosting over Stephen's fingers again and again, the tongue and teeth sometimes teasing, just the hint of sucking as Mello consumed nearly half the bar, only one side.

Stephen wanted to groan, but he was well trained, and he kept it in from habit. There didn't seem to be any real need for holding back, though. To think of it, Near wouldn't really mind, not as long as it wasn't part of an escape attempt.

"Put it in my ass," Mello begged, "the warmth will melt it."

"What?"

"It's narrow enough and I've made it slippery. Use your fingers, use the spoon, put some pudding in there too... I simply... need... please, Gevanni! I need to be properly fucked by a big hard cock. I know yours is big, I can see the outline through your trousers... fuck me... fuck me."

Mello was sliding his straightjacket-clad torso onto the cafeteria table, ass high in the air, twisting his neck to cast a sultry look back over one shoulder, defiant and yet somehow demure.

The decision was made all in a snap.

Stephen only took a few moments to run his hands over Mello's shivering body, checking efficiently to make sure the straightjacket was still completely secure. His professional obligations satisfied, he pulled down Mello's leather pants and found no underwear underneath, only a round, shapely bottom waving in his face.

It was the work of a few moments to slide the remains of the chocolate bar inside. Mello's pucker accepted it all greedily, spasming almost in an eating style of motion. The illusion of another mouth was eerie but alluring. Stephen scooped up some tapioca pudding and pressed the spoon right up to the sphincter. Mello moaned and the entire scoop-portion of the spoon slipped inside all at one, emerging clean after a couple of spasms.

"Stephen, do you like what you see?"

Mello was smirking.

Roughly, Stephen shoved a couple more spoonfuls inside. They both disappeared cleanly, and Mello's smirk only became wider.

Mello licked his lips and purred, "What are you waiting for? It's all ready for you, slippery and warm. Shove it in, ride my ass as hard as you want. Don't be gentle. I'm no virgin."

Just to spite Mello, Stephen fed his ass two more spoonfuls of pudding before it was clearly time, past time, the heady rush moving through his body, his hands trembling slightly as he undid his belt and own trousers, roughly pulling just enough clothing out of the way, and then sinking, tip-first, into that enclosing heated sanctuary, Mello's slim hips bucking underneath him.

There were only a few last lingering thoughts of the cameras to shove firmly out of his mind, and then there was nothing else that mattered except two bodies moving together, fucking on that table.

Stephen pushed in over and over again, anxious to continually re-experience the sensation of entering Mello, sliding easily on wet layers of molten chocolate and feeling the tapioca too, textured and clotted and almost like cum left over in Mello's ass, as if Mello had been fucked by an entire line of men first.

Mello didn't complain at all, no matter how roughly Stephen entered him or how firmly he pounded. That warm, slippery hole simply accepted everything, gulping that organ in as effortlessly as it had done earlier with the spoon. Stephen was hard, so hard he felt almost bursting, over-sensitive. He wanted to rub Mello raw, to use him, to fill him up, to make the cum overflow out of him.

The steady sound of Mello's own erection slapping up against his belly with each thrust was an obscene sound to prove how much Mello was enjoying it, without even a hand on his dick. Its tempo nearly matched the thumping heartbeat in Stephen's ears.

It was close, Stephen's balls drawing up tight, that rising feeling beginning in the base of his dick. Then he was reaching underneath, not wanting to be the selfish one to come alone, not with a generous little slut like Mello who wanted and gave perfectly.

Mello dick was shockingly warm, twitching, and Mello moaned loudly as Stephen first grasped it.

"Mello, come with me."

In answer, Mello's voice was soft and venomous, "Fuck, don't stop, don't! I'm gonna come... all over your table."

Stephen fucked him and palmed him harder, the feeling rising. It was heaven in there, deep within Mello's ass, a spasming, trembling heaven that sucked him far inside over and over again, squeezing him, caressing his most sensitive part. He couldn't resist it. He fed it what it wanted repeatedly. Mello was the perfect dirty little trick.

Everything was suddenly getting tighter, a slick tight channel, and rhythmic spasms moved through strongly, a milking motion. Sticky fluid was spilling all over Stephen's hand and squirting onto the table.

That was it. The feeling let loose, an exquisite release shooting straight up and through, throbbing, draining his balls, emptying everything into the willing little slut underneath him who was still ejaculating onto the table and muttering something. Every last bit of built-up work tension went into Mello and was utterly consumed.

In a few moments it was all over.

Mello flopped partway onto his side and they separated with a squelching pop. Everything was a mess, from what was leaking out of Mello's ass, looking as if he were a frog laying eggs from all the tapioca globules mixed in, to the table with the remains of the meal knocked over and flung wide across it and dribbling to the floor.

Mello looked hard in a particular direction and smiled. Stephen glanced over and saw Near standing in the open door, eyes not as blank as usual; perhaps even his pale cheeks had a slight dusting of pink.

Mello called out, "I thought you might not have seen porn, other than those rapes. How did you like the show?"

Near said nothing for a few moments, and then sputtered, "Mr. Gevanni, you will clean this up alone. Lidner and Rester have stated they will not."

The door closed.

* * *

**A/N (Author's Note):**

This was written as an outtake or deleted scene from one of my own fanfics (for "The Other Plan"). However, I did find a kink meme request for any generic MelloxGevanni or GevannixMello that was pretty old and had one fill already, but since this fic technically met the request, I decided to post mine as a second fill and maybe if the original requester is still around and if they followed the move from dn_kink to dn_kink2 they would be pleased.

So, even though this wasn't written specifically to be a kink meme fill, it ended up being used as one.

I know this took a long time (about half a year?) to finish from when I first mentioned that I was working on it. Sorry about that, but at least it's here now.


	13. Massage Therapy

**CHAPTER 13 of "Smutty Shorts"**

**Title:** "Massage Therapy"

**Author:** Sashocirrione

**Spoilers:** Minor spoilers for general facts about Death Note.

**Warnings:** NO UNDERAGE READERS. Sexual activities.

**Summary:** Light never picked up the death note, but he met L in a different context years later. Complete but open-ended.

**Pairing:** LxLight

**Additional Notes:** Most canon events never happened, since in this AU fanfic the canon storyline was derailed right at the start. Light graduated from college previous to the beginning of this fic. This is an experiment in telling a story using a multi-POV technique, without switching scenes or chapters when the POV changes, so it may be rough as to POV while I figure out how to do this. If I botch the POV technique, please say so in reviews.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Death Note, and I do not make any money from these writings.

* * *

"I'm sorry, Light, but I'm here to tell you... well... you're disrupting the night janitor's work again. Everyone else on our floor has... gone home."

It was Matsuda's voice, coming from somewhere behind. Light blinked at the computer screen glowing in front of him, seeming to glow all the more because of the general dimness. The only lights on were a few at this end of the office, but not above Light's desk. He was about to spin around in his chair when a hand descended painfully onto his shoulder and he yelped loudly. He couldn't help it.

Matsuda had jumped back and was feeling quite guilty by the time Light spun his chair around to glare.

Matsuda stammered, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Light, but that was just a touch. I didn't mean to scare you. I wasn't sure you'd heard."

Insulted, Light answered, "You didn't scare me. That hurt!"

"Is your shoulder sore?"

Light touched it himself and winced.

"Is it an injury?"

"No," Light said, "it's just from working long hours. My shoulders and back and," ... _sigh_ "just about everywhere. My body gets like this sometimes. It's nothing to worry over."

Matsuda reached out, but stopped halfway when Light flinched. Seriously, Light was the most extreme workaholic in the entire building. It was admirable, but the poor guy obviously needed a rest.

Matsuda said, "You don't really have to try to be so much like your father. Even _he_ doesn't work these kinds of hours any more."

"It's not that," Light said impatiently, "it's the matter of this spy. I can't rest when someone in our division is passing information to the yakuza. Organized crime is the scum of the earth, and to think that someone I drink coffee with every day could cooperate with such scum, it's... it's..."

Light realized his hands had both formed into fists and were shaking. He unclenched them and continued with, "It's something I can't tolerate. I know it's not you, my father, or myself. Everyone else could be the spy. I keep going over the altered log files and trying to find clues."

Light paused, considering how much to tell Matsuda. The guy did lean towards the stupid side, but he could keep secrets. He wouldn't go blabbing things.

Decision made, Light added, "Don't tell anyone this. I've found a little, but in order to test my theories I would need a lot more time, or resources I don't have access to, or some good luck. Internal Investigations won't listen to me unless I can give them something truly solid, instead of conjectures supported by a few measly clues. Furthermore, they'd never let me help them directly, because I am a suspect until this case is solved. They would never believe my little clues are anything other than attempts at misdirection."

"I know, I know, Light. Everybody's stressed about the spy. I don't think anyone's got it as bad as you, though. Before this, even. When there was no yakuza spy, there was the missing trust fund money, and before that the computer virus you were so obsessed with, and before that... well, there was always something, wasn't there? You need to relax. Why don't you come drinking with me tonight? It'll loosen those muscles right up!"

"No, Matsuda."

That was right, Light hardly drank at all! Matsuda wracked his brain. There had to be something better.

"Well... I know! You need to go on more dates with Takada!"

Light sighed. "We've broken up again. Besides, Takada is... boring. I think that's why we don't ever last. I should give up on her for good this time."

"Then you need to-"

"Just go away, Matsuda!"

Realizing what he'd done, Light groaned, rested his forehead in one hand and softly added, "That's not what I meant to say. I meant that I'm not at a good stopping point right now. Another hour, maybe two at most, and then I'll go home for the night. Tell that to the janitor."

Matsuda stared at the dark circles forming under Light's eyes and resolved he'd find some way to help, no matter how much work it was. He wanted to be of use. Probably one of the guys would have an idea.

Matsuda softly said, "Okay, Light, but I'll find some help for you soon, right?"

Light cringed inwardly, expecting a further barrage of attempts at getting him to drink or date, but instead Matsuda wandered away and didn't end up talking to him again until three days later.

It was after a conference meeting, when Light was trying to simply get back to his desk, but got held up by social obligations. Several small groups of men in deep conversation managed to draw him in as he tried to escape past them. There was no way to disengage quickly without being impolite, and so Light ended up wasting nearly fifteen minutes of his precious time with social niceties and retreading information he already knew.

When he thought he was nearly free, Matsuda spotted him and called out loudly, waving with the enthusiasm of a child and drawing lots of stares. Light found himself with no choice other than going in that direction to quiet Matsuda. Ignoring the man would only lead to more attempts later, wasting time until the issue was confronted.

Jumping up and down slightly in place, bursting with happiness at finding the _perfect_ solution, Matsuda said, "I've got tickets for you, Light."

He thrust some stiff bright slips of paper into Light's hand, and Light took the items and looked at them. They were gift certificates for free sessions at some kind of spa; one Light didn't recognize the name of.

Matsuda said, "Ide won a whole bunch of free tickets, and he's giving them out to everyone. Ukita has already been to the place, and he says they give a _very_ nice massage. Have you ever gotten a massage before, Light?"

"No, but..."

Light thought, _Wait, this is my chance! If I go and then afterwards tell Matsuda it got rid of the stress, he'll stop bothering me and give up this quest, at least for a while._

Light sighed and said, "You're right, Matsuda. I should go. Thank Ide for me; I've got plenty of work to do now."

Matsuda beamed. He knew it would work! It was the least that Light deserved, a real massage experience!

"That's great, Light! Tell me how it goes!"

The next day was Saturday. Light wanted to work some overtime, but when he called his boss to get permission to come in, he simply couldn't reach him. The guy wasn't answering at all.

Light wondered if Matsuda had somehow arranged it, before dismissing the thought as ridiculous. Matsuda didn't have that much forethought in his plans.

Maybe the people working for Internal Investigations were doing something that took up all the boss's time, or perhaps he was simply sleeping in. Light made himself breakfast and tried again a few more times to reach his boss through several different methods, but there was never any reply and those brightly-colored free tickets seemed to be looming in his vision more and more.

At last, Light decided that he could at least get that task done, grabbed one of the tickets, and called the place to see if an appointment could be made right away.

A female receptionist's voice answered and scheduled an appointment for as soon as Light could get there. He hung up with a sense of dismay in his stomach. Was this a disreputable spa? If appointments were so easy to get, could the massages really be worth anything?

There was no time for researching suspicions. Light hurried to make sure he looked impeccable, every hair in place, the perfect suit on, and even some make-up to hide those dark eye-circles. Then he was headed for the nearest subway and on his way.

His mind, as usual, wouldn't shut up and continued to pick at him as he traveled, suggesting that something was off, no matter how many times he told himself that the worst possible situation would be a low-quality massage and getting rid of Matsuda's nagging for a while, a perfectly acceptable goal.

The building was in an expensive part of Tokyo. Light had to ride to the top floor of a towering sky-scraper and was left in a waiting room that was at least three times as large as any waiting room Light had been in before, an all-metal room with rivets on the wall, a high ceiling, and only two small sofas to sit on, dwarfed by the space. An empty receptionist's desk was at the far end of the room, decorated with several vases of fresh flowers.

While Light investigated the receptionist's desk, smelled the flowers, and wrote his name on the register before anxiously settling down, L was watching the entire scene from a hidden room.

Multiple monitors showed various views of Light Yagami, a definite person of interest in one of the most unexpectedly difficult cases L had encountered in his life. This tangent of the yakuza leak was but one thread of the complex whole, but L had the feeling that if he could just solve this part, the rest would fall into place.

It was a fiendishly difficult thread, though. It had been years since L had encountered a situation where all the investigative techniques and investigators he could procure would yield so few clues. It had been necessary to personally intervene, a relatively safe technique since very few people knew that L had taken this case, and nobody would expect L to break his pattern and get involved so directly.

Light Yagami... he had been under observation for a few weeks, and he was doing his own independent investigation, though L had found it difficult to dig up details about that. Light was fiendishly intelligent... he could be the leak, but L's instincts said no. Light's ideals were too strong to be the leak willingly, and if he were under some sort of threat or blackmail, a man like Light would have found a way to strike back at his enemy by now.

No, Light Yagami probably wasn't the leak, but he was still a person of interest, and knowing him could become very useful. L finished the last of his cookies and licked the crumbs from his fingers while Light fidgeted on a couch, looking haughty. Then L hopped from his chair and started things.

Light had not heard a door open, but when he turned his head in response to the words, "Hello, I am your masseur," he saw the man himself standing in an open doorway, in a peculiar hunched-forward posture, barefoot, in faded baggy jeans and an ill-fitting long-sleeved t-shirt. He was a slender wisp, tall and lanky, almost girlish except for the wide shoulders and his large, awkwardly-shaped, definitely manly hands. His shaggy hair was unkempt, sticking around in every direction and falling into his eyes, hiding them from view.

It didn't feel like meeting a highly-paid professional. It felt like meeting some religious weirdo on the subway, someone who was about to start ranting about the end of the world and trying to shove pamphlets into your hands.

The masseur lifted his head, revealing big eyes, not attractively large, but instead bugged out and fixed in a strange blank stare. He said, "Please call me Ryuzaki."

"I couldn't be so informal! I've just met you. Let me call you by your surname."

"My surname is of no importance. This will be an informal situation. After all, you'll be naked. It's best to dispense with formalities in such a situation. It helps with the relaxation. I'll simply call you 'Light' and you should be just as forward with me."

L turned and added, "Please follow me. We will be working back here."

Without waiting for a response, L strolled into the room and perched in a chair. When he turned around, Light had taken off his suit jacket and was making his way to the massage table in the middle of the room.

Light was surprised at the masseur's working area. Like the waiting room, it seemed entirely too large, dwarfing the massage table in the center. This room was more home-like, though, with plenty of furniture in it and rich, warm colors on the walls, punctuated by fancy oil paintings, vases of flowers, and lamps that only partially dispersed the dimness.

He felt Ryuzaki's stare burning into him and turned to meet those inky eyes again, fathomless and somehow sparking with a strange intelligence despite the blankness of the expression. Though he hadn't seen any music playing devices, soothing music was suddenly coming from somewhere hidden.

"Please disrobe entirely and lie face-down on the table," said Ryuzaki, motioning with one hand and scratching the back of his neck with his other hand.

Light knew it was a mistake. It was certainly a mistake, but there was no way to get out of it now while still being polite, so Light did as he was instructed, resentful, feeling the weight of that stare, the stare that never wavered to one side for even a moment. Ryuzaki must not know any politeness, and soon his hands would be all over, touching naked flesh. Light shuddered.

As his naked body settled onto it, the massage table was unexpectedly soft and warm, obviously having some sort of heat source inside it. Light reluctantly felt a little better.

He saw bare feet move into his vision, roughly kicking his neat pile of clothing to the side, rumpling his suit. He almost snapped at that, an insult ready on his tongue, but he swallowed it instead, determined to simply make it through and never, never take advice from Matsuda again.

"Here," said Ryuzaki, pushing at Light's head to settle his face into the loop-shaped cradle at the front. Light yelped in pain.

"I'm sorry. It looks as if I will need to use the rocks on you."

"Rocks?"

L quickly grabbed one of them and held it at the right level for Light's vision.

Light saw a smooth, glossy black rock, very flat, being held just under his nose. With a flick of Ryuzaki's wrist the rock pressed gently against Light's cheek, exuding tremendous heat, almost too much.

Ryuzaki explained, "These will be placed on your back, neck and thighs to loosen up the muscles before we begin. While I wait for the rocks to work their magic, I will give you a foot massage."

Light saw those bare feet pattering about, moving in and out of his field of vision, and one by one the smooth, heated rocks were placed along his body, each one soaking its warmth deep into the muscles, feeling kind of good. His eyes fluttered closed a few times and he realized he was almost feeling sleepy, lulled into a drifting bliss by the soft music and the penetrating heat and the dimness of the room.

The first touch on his feet was startling, a sliding pressure, slippery with oil. The masseur pressed too hard in the very center of Light's sole and he whimpered in protest.

Instead of letting up, Ryuzaki said, "Just a moment. You'll get used to this, and then it will feel good."

The pressure increased, painfully, and Light gasped through clenched teeth, and then, just when he was about to say something, the pressure was suddenly released and he missed it, wanted it to return. A few moments later the foot was clenched again, in two hands, in a different pattern, being flexed in opposite directions, creating an internal pulling, and then it was unflexed, and the same set of actions repeated. Each moment felt better and better, the soothing hands working deep into painful knots and releasing them one by one.

Light sighed in bliss when the hands moved on to his second foot and the process repeated. He was learning to crave the pain, for what it meant, for the upcoming release it signaled. The hands gradually left his feet and worked up Light's calves, sensuously, slowly rubbing in complex patterns, and Light began to hear a chewing noise from behind, stopping and starting at intervals.

Light lifted his head and glanced backwards to see Ryuzaki eating little chocolates from a silver tray as he worked; they looked like expensive, fancy gourmet chocolates.

The masseur noticed and said, "Don't worry. All the massage oils I use are edible. I'm not poisoning myself. Would you like a chocolate as well?"

"No."

Ryuzaki was crawling up Light's body slowly, hovering so near Light could feel the other man's body heat, in the process removing the warm stones one by one and touching the flesh underneath, flesh that was ready to be touched and rubbed deeply, muscles loose and warm and a tingly feeling beginning to move all through Light's body. He still had that drifting, trance-like sensation of being on the edge of sleep, but there was an underlying excitement growing gradually, his breaths speeding up.

Light wanted to arch up into every touch of those hands, but his body was too warm and lazy to enact his cravings. It felt entirely boneless, draped helplessly over the table. He was a puddle that could flow away at any moment.

The masseur's body was shifting above him, losing contact, the contact Light needed so very much, and he almost, almost had the strength to arch upward in pursuit, but he couldn't and instead simply shivered, letting the laziness soak further into him. The return of that skin contact was pure bliss, in the form of two hands and one foot, all three kneading furiously and skillfully, stroking him, touching him like he'd never been touched before, and he was gasping under the impact, the weight being leveraged onto him to press hard and sure into each sore spot.

Tingly warmth was rushing through Light's skin and deep inside his abdomen, gathering as a heavy sensation between his legs and it was then he realized, as his erection rapidly swelled in its bent position trapped against the table, that he was more aroused than he'd ever been before in his life. This wasn't at all like when Takada touched him, or any of the other girls. This was completely different, new and exciting.

It was mortifying and exhilarating and he didn't know what he wanted, but it was all so impossible, and he found himself shaking under those skilled hands and whispering, "More" and "Yes" and the blood was rushing to his face as well, a fierce blush burning his skin. It was a man, a man doing this to him, and he didn't know what to think. He'd never had a man touch him so intimately and boldly, and he'd never craved anything like this.

L was watching his client turning into an aroused, shaking, gasping mess. Erections were a normal result during massage sessions, but this was something else altogether. It was an unexpected development, but understandable after considering Light's history. According to all the information L had been able to find, 22-year-old Light had only ever had girlfriends, they seldom lasted long, and they all complained of disinterest.

L squeezed a round, perfect buttock, and as he watched the shivering and slight moan it provoked, he thought, _Yes, I am almost certain of it now. Light Yagami is a closeted gay man, closeted even from himself. This could be an excellent opportunity to get very close to him indeed. It would not be unpleasant, either. He is very intelligent and a fine physical specimen._

It was exciting to think that Light would probably just let anything be done to him, right on the table. L decided to see how far it could go. Coating his hands with a fresh layer of massage oil, he knelt between Light's legs, pushing them apart more and working on the inner thighs, hard circular rubbing. Light's breath hitched and he squirmed, muscles twitching at first under the movements and then he relaxed utterly and let out a soft, embarrassed-sounding "Yes."

L almost chuckled to himself, but he was able to contain the sound and slowly worked closer and closer to the junction between Light's legs, watching the shivering turn into strong shuddering. Light was a fascinating creature, in all sorts of ways.

L whispered, "I see your erection is folded under your body. That must be painful. Let me adjust it for you into a more comfortable position."

Light could hardly believe what he was hearing, but he didn't want to resist. He lifted his hips slightly as long, slippery fingers slid underneath him, cupping his balls briefly and then settling exactly where Light wanted them, unfolding the painful kink in his erection and suddenly it was pointing the right way, immense relief, and the hands, the hands, they were still touching, tucking him into position and the sliding friction was too much, too much.

Light squeezed his eyes shut and came hard with a groan all over the masseur's fingers, and they were pumping him, milking more of it out of him, and it was perfect and wrong as the intensity peaked even higher, and he didn't care, he didn't care at all, he simply wanted it, and hated himself for wanting it.

He blinked in the aftermath. Sweat stung his eyes and shame filled his gut.

Light said, "I... I must apologize. I've never been so humiliated in my life."

Choosing his words carefully, L replied, "This is a new occurrence for me, but it is not unpleasant. You are a very attractive young man. I would like to attend to your sexual needs. If you flip over, I will clean up your semen and give you a prostate massage."

Light pulled his relaxed body up onto his elbows and knees. It felt immensely good, a sort of glowing feeling all throughout him. In a few moments, Ryuzaki had gotten a warm, wet cloth from somewhere and was cleaning every sticky surface and then patting away the moisture with dry, fluffy towels.

Light settled onto his back and Ryuzaki crouched between Light's spread legs, in the posture of a gargoyle. Light suddenly remembered that he was dealing with a weirdo that he hadn't wanted to touch him at all, but that seemed unimportant now. Instead, he only braced himself as one long, probing finger slipped into his tight hole.

It was uncomfortable at first, but as the oily finger continued slipping in and out this discomfort faded and it began to feel positively interesting. Before long, each time the finger pulled out, it felt empty inside, needing to be filled and stimulated.

Ryuzaki said, "You're beginning to adjust, but I'll take as long as you need. Tell me what you want, Light."

Light closed his eyes and whispered, "More."

A second finger joined the first, feeling incredibly weird, but then that interesting sensation began to overcome the weirdness and a relaxed, loose tingling spread throughout his entire pelvic region. He was panting again, and he had to keep opening his eyes from time to time to gaze at the stranger crouched between his legs. His gaze was met each time boldly, unblinkingly, and there was somehow something between them in those stares, an intimate connection communicated through the stranger's dark, mirror-like eyes.

When Light's erection started to rise again, Ryuzaki said in a low monotone, "I'll give you a little oral," and then simply leaned over to gently mouth the sensitive tip, surrounding it with exquisite warmth, pressure and suction, and then slow, long, teasing licks. Light melted for that mouth as his penis rapidly stiffened fully. His body was no longer his own; it was caught up in an irresistible chain of instinctual reactions, skillfully being puppeted by the masseur.

Under the influence of the teasing, on-again, off-again oral, Light accepted a third finger perfectly, feeling it settle within him exactly as it should, just where it was needed, thrusting alongside the others. Light knew he was lost, utterly out of control, an experience that was entirely new to him.

"Give me your hand," Ryuzaki ordered, and Light obeyed.

In moments Ryuzaki had pulled down his baggy jeans and underwear, and was placing Light's hand on the stiff cock that sprang free from them. It was a shock to feel that warm, firm organ. To be touching another man's erect penis, the tangible evidence of his excitement and desire, it felt very right and very primal to some instinct coded deep within Light's brain. He was lost, still lost, and he barely registered Ryuzaki's next words.

"I would like to massage you internally with my penis. This would give you a very intense prostate massage, which tends to lead to forceful, and particularly pleasurable, ejaculation."

"You're asking to fuck me?"

"Yes. May I fuck you, Light?"

Although every instinct in Light was screaming, _Yes, Yes,_ he hesitated.

L knew exactly how cheesy his explanation sounded, but he couldn't think of anything that didn't sound cheesy, and Light was pretty far gone. Light had already swallowed so much bait that the hook was probably well-sunk into him.

During the gap, L said, "I promise it will feel very good. I know what I'm doing."

Light closed his eyes, leaned his head back, and whispered, "Please... yes."

To L's surprise, Light was already trying to manipulate L's erection into himself.

L pulled away and said, "Lube first," coating himself with a generous layer of oil.

He could hardly wait to penetrate the young man underneath him. Somehow, this had all become far more interesting that he'd anticipated. Perhaps it had been too long since the last encounter... L had always been picky about his lovers, and unwilling to invest much time searching out the few men and women who met his requirements. It involved at least two weeks of observing the potential lover to start with, and the payoff was rarely more than a handful of encounters.

His own hands trembling slightly, L put back the bottle of oil and started easing in slowly. All the memories came rushing back at once, of just how much he liked sex, of how absorbing it could be during the moment. Light was truly begging, underneath him, and the grip of Light's internal muscles was almost too much to take.

It was glorious and tight and warm in there, and he wanted to pound roughly, ruthlessly, but he went slowly with pauses, helping Light to adjust, using one free hand to stroke him and to keep his arousal high enough for further penetration, gradually slipping inside more and more.

Light was overwhelmed. It was strange and a little bit painful, but Ryuzaki seemed to instinctively know exactly when the stretch was too much, and then he would pause and his deliciously talented hand would stroke up and down Light's hardness until Light found himself opening up a little more and Ryuzaki would slip deeper.

Somewhere in the background, that soothing music was still playing, and Light was staring into the depths of those strange jet-black eyes again as his body was slowly navigated and penetrated, a sense of unreality permeating the situation. He felt almost more than physically merged with the very exciting, very _male_ body that he was currently _letting screw him_ , even though he'd just met the man. It was too surreal to think about. Light's mind shied away from the lurking questions, and he gave himself over to the raw experience.

With one last movement that felt very right, they were suddenly joined completely together, Ryuzaki as deeply seated as he could be, his pubic bone nudged against the backside of Light's tightly-drawn-up balls, Ryuzaki's thin and sinuous but lightly-muscled body hovering just above Light's own as he propped himself up on elbows and, panting, said, "Tell me when to start moving."

"Now."

It was strange, that internal sense of movement now reversed, that hard and long thing lodged deep inside pulling out, leaving empty space behind. Light was squeezing instinctively after it, missing its filling presence, trying to hold on, and he lifted his hips a bit in pursuit. The angle changed and the intensity suddenly increased, and Light let out a little semi-growl. He wanted more, more, more, and his body knew just what to do.

He wrapped his legs around Ryuzaki's waist, preserving the correct angle as the pull-out changed to once again pushing in, overwhelming, making Light shudder and say various embarrassing things that barely registered, forgotten in an instant.

The entire world was narrowed down to little more than tightness and slick movement and the delightful pleasure radiating within him, bare skin pressed together, the delicious invasion of his body by another, Ryuzaki's toned chest rubbing against his, Ryuzaki's tongue vigorous on his neck, that flyaway poufy hair tickling Light's chin and cheek, the cries of passion spilling automatically from Light's mouth.

In and out, getting faster, it was a rhythm swaying within his lower abdomen, waves of pleasure perfectly matched to the thrusts of that stiff organ inside him. Each wave drove the pleasure and arousal a little bit higher, building towards that impending release.

Moving together with Ryuzaki, being impaled and stroked and licked, gentle tongue and nipping teeth along his neck and collarbone, it was better, it was better than anything. It felt like something he'd always secretly wanted, something he'd been lusting after his whole life without knowing it.

"Ryuzaki," he gasped, "Ah! Ryuzaki!"

And then it was suddenly as high as it could go, and like water flowing over, it was all releasing, the pent-up feelings bursting out in a flood of pleasure, hot pulses, so much semen, so very much, and Ryuzaki was helping with his clever little hand, stroking and squeezing and Light gave himself completely over to it, whimpering and sobbing shamelessly.

Light's release was almost L's undoing. It took L's entire willpower to not release at the same moment, to help Light through his climax in a way sure to instill a desire for repeat performances instead of merely collapsing helplessly onto Light's chest. As the last bit of semen dribbled out of Light, L let himself go, thrusting hard once, twice, and then the finely-tuned balance tipped and it was suddenly all pouring out of him into Light, a sharp peak of pleasure shooting out of his penis and spreading outward in a wave that radiated tingles all the way to his finger-tips and toe-tips.

He blinked down at his new lover, feeling more than the usual post-orgasmic sentiment. Something about Light was different than the others, and some part of L's mind was already entertaining fantasies of prolonging the relationship beyond whenever the case happened to wrap up.

Light still felt disconnected from reality. There was a weird kind of glowing relaxation in him, in every fiber of his being. It felt strangely good to simply cling to Ryuzaki's nearly-nude body, seeing his jeans funnily tangled around his ankles and his long-sleeved shirt still clinging to one arm. It was too strange and too good to be real, wasn't it?

Light felt something being placed into his hand and looked down, seeing Ryuzaki putting a business card there.

With an intense look in his eyes, Ryuzaki said, "What happened here today was something special. I think we need to explore it, and going on dates is the logical way to do so. Please call me whenever you want. There won't ever be a charge."

* * *

**A/N (Author's Note):**

This is a kink meme fill, for the second Death Note anonymous kink meme at dn_kink2 on Livejournal. It is actually the second fill for this prompt, though I started writing it before the first fill appeared. This first fill is the excellent "Soothing the Fire" by Viyola which can be found on fanfiction dot net.

The request reads:

"Full Body Massage turns into unexpected sex

Light is a slightly cranky, reserved, and Really tense (and intense) business man. Matsuda, Mikami, or someone that he works closely with (Namikawa?) suggest/tell him he needs to relax, and book him an appointment for a full body massage to this place that 'works wonders'. Or they happen to have free tickets or somethings to make him go. (This can be because they're fed up with him or because they are worried about his stressed out state.) so Light goes.

In comes L, an eccentric masseur.

Light takes his clothes off and the massage starts, and Light, who kinda didn't even want L to touch him, because L is...L-like?

He gets really into the massage despite himself. He becomes Very Vocal.

L notices, and decides that, well Light IS already naked, so he wants to see how far he can go. (Which is all the way.)

Surprise sex on a massage table with Light letting L do whatever he wants to him. Ahhh, I SO want This.

Please write this somebody!?!!"


	14. Ryuk's Tongue

**CHAPTER 14 of "Smutty Shorts"**

**Title:** "Ryuk's Tongue"

**Author:** Sashocirrione

**Spoilers:** Spoilers for up to about the middle of the second half of the series.

**Warnings:** NO UNDERAGE READERS. Sexual activities. Extremely gross.

**Summary:** Misa takes out her pent-up sexual needs on the most available outlet, reasoning that it isn't cheating on Light if it isn't with a human.

**Pairing:** RyukxMisa

**Additional Notes:** All canon events previous to the beginning of this fic have happened as normal.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Death Note, and I do not make any money from these writings.

* * *

Light was reading in bed, the glow from his laptop tinting his skin bluish.

Misa was draped along the foot of that same bed, wearing a white lacy two-piece that covered less than a bikini, the bottom being not much more than a belt made of ruffles attached to a crotch-less thong, and the top being a matching design, with holes for her nipples to peek through.

As usual, Light wasn't paying any attention.

She crossed her legs and then uncrossed them again slowly, ending with a very good view for him.

_I will wait. I will be patient. Light is simply worn out by so much work, and soon, soon, he'll notice me and he'll need me to make him feel very good._

She wanted to believe her own thoughts, but somehow she couldn't quite do it. Those thoughts felt hollow and forced, more so every time she reassured herself with them. She'd been through the same situation so often, and each time it was a little more difficult to keep her faith.

Light didn't seem to have any sexual needs at all. It had been twenty-seven days since the last time he'd given in, and that had been quite a bit of work to pull off.

Misa smiled, remembering it. There had been complexities involved, the right amount of nagging and displays, a few guilt trips, and, of course, leaving him on his own at certain crucial times to make him think he'd won. Light liked victories. Victories made him far more pliable.

Using her talents in such a way, it wasn't quite as satisfying as the Kira schemes she remembered fondly, of finding Light in the first place, and of tricking Higuchi in all the ways she did to help catch him. A feeling of uselessness washed over her, that she was no longer at the forefront of that war against the authorities, that her acting and planning talents were wasted in nothing else other than trying to obtain sex.

It felt as if her mind had slowed over the years. Light made all the decisions about matters relating to Kira.

Misa gazed at his face, slightly inclined towards the screen in front of him. His eyes didn't dart her way even momentarily. She wondered what he was reading on the laptop's screen, what he was doing, what was more important than a nearly-nude famous model and actress displaying herself for him, inviting him.

Whatever was on his screen, surely it couldn't be yet more information about criminals. He already did that all day at work, under the guise of researching Kira, along with checking up on her judgments as the criminals died. She was perfect, she knew. She always killed according to his specifications for justice.

He'd given her very detailed guidelines, and she never wavered, never messed up. Each day, she always spent hours more than her assigned time, researching and judging exactly the way Light had told her to.

He'd seen that himself; he had the evidence each day. Just because he hardly ever praised her for it, that didn't mean she wasn't appreciated.

A wave of lovesick feelings washed over her. She was watching his face always these days, it seemed, waiting and waiting for his attention, for him to look her way, for him to notice. She'd gotten everything she'd wanted in life, and yet she hadn't. She had Light, and yet he was always escaping from her grasp. It was bittersweet, a hollow partial victory, unfulfilled needs gnawing at her insides.

Desperate, Misa decided to take a risk. She re-arranged herself for the best possible view, licked one finger, and slid it right next to her clit, gently nudging it. In only a few moist strokes she was imagining Light clamped between her legs, and her other hand wandered down, fingers exploring, tracing her labia and then plunging inside.

It was so wet already in there that squishing noises were already beginning. It felt good and she moaned, wishing for something larger than fingers, wanting Light's hard cock. She'd do whatever he asked; he knew that.

Light finally glanced her way and then said words that sunk her heart.

"I'm going to lock myself into the investigation room for the night. Don't disturb me."

He got up, taking a quilt with him. It was a devastating defeat whenever he did this. Her eyes lingered on his form until it was out of sight. Would he sleep on one of those sofas there, rather than in a soft, warm bed? Or would he truly work throughout the night? She never really knew what he did when he locked himself in.

She closed her eyes, groaned and said, "Stupid Misa! Next time be more subtle!"

Ryuk's gravelly voice answered, saying, "So, you scared him away again, huh?"

She opened her eyes to see the shinigami licking his lips and looking around the room.

Ryuk asked, "You don't have any apples in here, do you?"

"No."

"Well, we're out then. Better get more very soon."

Maybe it was the desperation, but Misa's gaze lingered on Ryuk's very large, very long tongue as the shinigami licked his lips again. It would feel good, wouldn't it?

_I must be crazy to think like this. I only want Light, not some ugly monster! Besides, Ryuk wouldn't lick me unless I was an apple!_

She suddenly saw a vision of herself drenched in applesauce, Ryuk vigorously licking it all up, herself with her eyes closed, pretending it was Light and climaxing beautifully. She was blushing, she could feel it, but her mind was suddenly darting ahead and assembling all the pieces of the plan.

There was applesauce in the refrigerator. Ryuk almost never looked inside the refrigerator, because apples weren't kept there. Misa had seen Ryuk eat applesauce a few times, though he never went looking for it, but with no apples in the house he'd probably be more interested in applesauce.

Best of all, it was safe. Light wouldn't be back for the entire night, and even if by some unusual coincidence he discovered the act, she had the feeling he might not even care.

She didn't care. She really didn't. There were simply too many times when her pleasure had been delayed, and delayed again, and it wasn't fair, and she could feel tears trembling at the corners of her eyes but she wasn't going to cry. She was just going to do it, yes, to do it and maybe stop needing Light so badly for a day or two.

She took a deep breath, said, "Ryuk, do you want to play a game?" and marched into the kitchen. She dug into the back of the refrigerator, finding the applesauce, and then grabbed a turkey baster from a drawer.

From behind her, Ryuk said, "Oh, that stuff! Yeah, I might be hungry enough for applesauce."

Misa ducked his gasping hand and said, "Not yet. Don't you want to play the game? You'll get applesauce as a reward and you'll have less boredom too!"

"Okay."

She marched back into the bedroom, laid some towels down on the bed so there wouldn't be a mess to bother Light later on, then lay back and filled herself full of cold, sloppy applesauce, shivering at the alien sensation of it.

It was wrong, so very, very wrong, but it wasn't really cheating. Cheating had to be with a human. Ryuk didn't even have sexual feelings. Getting him to perform oral, it was as meaningless as humping a bedpost. She drizzled some applesauce around the outside, too, making sure to get plenty on her clitoris.

Ryuk approached, kneeling down, grinning, and his teeth were big and sharp like shark's teeth but she tried not to think about them.

He said, "This looks hilarious! Are you going to make those funny faces and squirm?"

"Yes, Ryuk."

And with that said, he was leaning down all the way to the edge of the bed where she sprawled, reaching out with his tongue, and Misa closed her eyes so she wouldn't have to look at him and then she felt his cold, cold tongue slithering over her sensitive parts, and at first she wanted to shiver backwards in revulsion, but she forced herself to endure it.

Endurance paid off. It started feeling very good after just a few swipes and it was so long it could worm deep inside while the base of it was still rubbing up against her clit. Her clit and cleft were was so sensitive, so full of pent-up longing, and she imagined Light, it was Light doing this to her, and she was tilting up her hips to get closer to the source of pleasure, instinctively, without thinking about it, and she was moaning, she could hear it.

Ryuk snickered a bit with his gravelly laugh and broke the fantasy for a few brief moments. Misa felt shame overtaking her in waves, but she pushed that feeling deep into her stomach, into a safe little knot, and almost forgot about it entirely as she started shaking from the pleasure.

"Yes!" she said, "Yes!"

The tongue continued moving, and everything was throbbing there, wanting and wanting and the excitement was rising to a fever pitch, and then she was coming, her whole pelvis jerking as she screamed, "Light! Yes, Light!"

In the afterglow, as Ryuk slurped up the last of it and went into a laughing fit, the shame started leaking out again. Misa stared at that long, long tongue, monstrous and kind of bluish, and wondered if it had truly been worth it, or if what had happened was only a temporary insanity that should be fought against if the idea ever came back.

A few days later, Misa had a yeast infection from putting something so sugar-laden inside her vagina.

* * *

**A/N (Author's Note):**

This is a fill for a request on the Death Note kink meme, but the idea kind of scared me and so I didn't feel like doing anything too involved for it, and ended up with this tiny little fic. It's inaccurate as to Japanese culture because very few Japanese households have ovens of the size to cook turkeys, so it's unlikely Misa would have a turkey baster. I figured that a detail like that isn't important enough to change the fic for, though.

The request says:

"RyukxMisa, applesauce:

While Light and Misa are living together, Misa gets really horny and desperate from building sexual tension because of Light's barely-there libido. She notices Ryuk's very long tongue. She'd never cheat on Light, but reasons that it's not cheating if it isn't with a person. She fills her vagina with applesauce and spreads some around the outside too and invites Ryuk to lick it all up. Ryuk goes along with it because it's applesauce and because he thinks it's funny.

Like to see Misa suffering from the slow build-up of pent-up sexual frustration and ashamed about releasing it in such a way, but getting off marvelously despite the shame."

Since the Death Note kink meme moved from dn_kink to dn_kink2 on livejournal, I'm putting this as a fill on the new meme (the old meme now has all comments blocked so unfortunately I cannot put a link on the old meme pointing to the fill on the new meme for anyone who wasn't following the move).

I owe some inspiration to the fic "Apple Sauce" by PowerOfImagination, which has a similar concept with Ryuk and Matsuda (and that fic doesn't even attempt to take itself seriously).

And there's also another fic with a similar idea, "Entertainment" by plannedbyReaperLight that starts with RyukxLight with applesauce and ends with a RyukxLightxMisa threesome.


	15. Mello's Gun

**CHAPTER 15 of "Smutty Shorts"**

**Title:** "Mello's Gun"

**Author:** Sashocirrione

**Spoilers:** Spoilers for up to about the middle of the second half of the series.

**Warnings:** NO UNDERAGE READERS. Sexual activities. Violence. Nonhuman sex.

**Summary:** Sidoh is sexually fascinated with violence, and with his inability to feel pain.

**Pairing:** MelloxSidoh

**Additional Notes:** All canon events previous to the beginning of this fic have happened as normal.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Death Note, and I do not make any money from these writings.

* * *

The one they called Mello wasn't the leader. The one they called Rod Ross was the leader, but Mello was the scariest one.

Mello was fascinatingly aggressive. Sidoh watched him, often drifting closer despite the tingles of fear that ran up and down his spine. For his trouble, he usually got an outburst: scary shouting in his face, followed closely afterwards by another bar of delicious chocolate thrust into his hands. It was terrifying, but worth it, for both aspects of the experience.

Mello's gun often drew his attention, that smooth length of metal that Mello was so fond of caressing and of waving in various faces whenever he got excited. Sidoh often stared at it and wondered: would he get shot again? It had tickled delightfully as the humans had all shot him, and then there had been a surge of pleasure as the bullet holes healed shut. It was frightening, but it didn't hurt in the slightest.

He hoped Mello might do it again, but he was too timid to provoke him, simply drifting along behind Mello, hoping and unable to give voice to his crush.

It was a crush; Sidoh knew that much. He'd heard others talk about it sometimes: the strange fascination with another being that led to hopeless yearning and a wish for physical pleasure. It had something to do with certain shriveled and degenerated body parts that only a few shinigami possessed, and that all shinigami were forbidden to use. Without those parts, however, pleasure in any part of the body could fill a similar purpose, and that wasn't forbidden, as long as you didn't go too far with it.

At night, as Mello slept in his bed, often with one hand clutching the gun under his pillow, Sidoh liked to drift very near, nearer than he dared to when Mello was awake. It was at these times that his imagination took over. He thought of his body tangled up with Mello's, Mello holding him down, snapping his thin, brittle arms and then shooting him in the face over and over again.

While these types of thoughts ran through Sidoh's mind, he would carefully, carefully break his own fingers, snapping them as quietly as possible and then holding in the gasp that threatened to escape with the surging pleasure of healing. More and more he would do it, faster and faster, until the healing waves of pleasure began to reach a certain peak and then he would linger there, shuddering and twitching, yearning for Mello's touch, and then gradually coming down from his height of bliss with a satisfied glowing feeling all throughout his body.

Mello never woke up during these sessions, and Sidoh was too shy to be loud enough to wake him, but Sidoh wished, he wished so hard, that Mello would just once wake up and give him an angry glare just as he reached that peak.

* * *

**A/N (Author's Note):**

This is a fill for a request on the Death Note kink meme. The request reads:

"Shinigami masturbation (probably Ryuk, but any shinigami could work, including a human character turned shinigami after their death). Want to see the shinigami make use of their immunity to pain and damage, by doing things such as masturbating with a blowtorch.

It could be absolutely solo activity, or it could be unrequited love, as the shinigami masturbates while watching a human they are attracted to."

If you are not aware of this, I want to tell you that fanfiction dot net is currrently undergoing a deletion spree, deleting things even for the wrong reasons. If you have any stories on there, please make back-ups so that your stories don't get lost forever. You can make copies of your fanfics by using the export feature in Doc Manager in your control panel on fanfiction dot net and then downloading those exported files. If you want to make copies of your fanfics that also include your reviews, I have heard that "Story Master" does this (it is a different website, google for it) but I haven't used it yet because I've heard that everyone is in a panic and clogging it, and I don't want to slow it down any more when I've already got (review-free) copies of my fanfics.


	16. Swordplay

**CHAPTER 16 of "Smutty Shorts"**

**Title:** "Swordplay"

 **Author:** Sashocirrione

 **Spoilers:** Minor spoilers for a few facts revealed early in the series.

 **Warnings:** NO UNDERAGE READERS. Sexual activities. Dubious consent, rape-like situation, bondage, suffocation, sharp object used.

 **Summary:** Light resorts to physical force and sexual coercion in an attempt to get L's name.

 **Pairing:** LightxL

 **Additional Notes:** The plot obviously diverged from canon at some point prior to the start of this fanfic, but it isn't set firmly during a particular arc. I suppose you could imagine this fanfic happening during the college arc or during the Yotsuba arc equally easily.

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Death Note, and I do not make any money from these writings.

* * *

Even when L closed his eyes, he was still hyper-aware of exactly where the sword was. Light had made sure of that, the cold steel always in contact with some part of L's body. It was constantly skimming here and there, sometimes laid flat but other times the edge - _oh so sharp_ \- and if Light pressed just slightly then it would make a thin pink line decorated with bright red beads of blood.

Light wasn't a complete sadist, but he certainly had some tendencies in that direction.

The sword was only part of it. There were also the choking sessions, and the casual, but very effective, forced immobility. Super-glue held L's shoulders, arms, and most of his back tight against the floor. His legs could be used for kicking, but that was a bad idea as long as Light held the sword.

L opened his eyes again, to see Light still standing over him, always with that smug, smug grin on his face, perhaps with a bit of worry flickering across his features now and then, but Light was hiding that well. The sword was at L's throat, casually skimming along the surface of the skin without biting in at all, but it hesitated slightly where L knew his jugular to be, betraying Kira's killing-lust.

"Shall I fuck you again?" Light asked, as if L really had any choice in the matter, as if this were a normal sexual encounter.

"Why not?" L answered. "You have yet to make me orgasm."

At that, the sword suddenly left L's throat and traveled to his erection, prodding it with the flat. L gasped at the contact and the sexual attention was exciting, but probably not for precisely the reasons Light thought. Yes, there had been that simmering sexual tension under the surface almost from the beginning, but this was more than that.

This was... victory. Not a complete victory, yet, what with being glued to the floor with Kira in control, but it was still the victory L had sought for so long. Kira was known, admitted, masks dropped and accusations no longer denied. If L survived this, he would have _proof_. Light was a kidnapper, Light wanted to know the true name of L, and Light was undoubtedly Kira. The only component remaining was surviving this, and that was still a possibility.

For Light to break down like this, to resort to using his own hands for his own dirty work, it meant Kira was truly desperate, Kira was in trouble, Kira had been backed into a corner by L's tactics.

"Kira," L whispered, just for the pleasure of seeing Light not deny it.

Better than not denying it, Light's smug little grin turned in a scary smile and he replied, "I'll kill you very gently, I promise. Simply tell me your real name, and your suffering will be brief."

Without waiting for an answer, Light dropped to his knees, spreading L's legs and lifting his pelvis, easing into the lube-slick semen-slick hole, and they were connected again, Light setting a torturously slow pace of deep, gliding thrusts. L ached against that touch, panting, wanting it. He wanted a hand on his cock too, but Light wouldn't. One hand was for the sword, and the other crept up to L's neck to resume the choking.

Breath rattled and rasped in L's throat, barely able to get in or out. Light's hand squeezed and released at random times, allowing just a bit more air, or cutting it off entirely for long seconds when L's head spun and a giddy, strange, unbearable sensation built up within.

L had almost fainted by the time Light let up, and there was a hand stroking him now just slightly, not enough and the need was too much, far too much.

"Tell me," Light demanded, "tell me your name."

Some name spilled from L's lips; he wasn't sure if it was his own or not. A moment later, Light was fucking him and stroking him the right way, and everything that had built up peaked, and suddenly surged out in an amazing rush, tingling and shaking, a thing of pure ecstasy that expanded and contracted, hard.

* * *

**A/N (Author's Note):**

This ficlet is another fill for the Death Note Kink Meme #2, which is on LiveJournal at dn_kink2. It's actually from a very old prompt, which is so old it was carried over from the original Death Note Kink Meme at dn_kink, so I doubt the requestor is still around, but it caught my eye anyway.

The request includes a picture which no longer displays, and it reads:

"Fic which takes this picture to its logical conclusion. :) Light/L, dub-con, asphyxiation, trying to fuck/torture L's name out of him via denied orgasms, swordplay (is there even such a thing?), etc."

 **Edited to add:** I never expected to declare the _Smutty Shorts_ ficlet collection complete, but I've now done that. The "wall of tags" situation crept up on me gradually, but at this point it's just getting ridiculous. All the tags are legit, too. Although this is complete, I think it highly likely that I'll start a second ficlet collection entitled _Smutty Shorts II_. Just don't hold your breath waiting for it. I've currently got so many half-completed writing projects itching at my brain that I'm not sure when I'll have time for non-serious little ficlets again.


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